Hellfire Paradise
by Sylleth
Summary: "Love is the thing that corrodes the mind and pushes it to do the unimaginable. Love is the thorn that barbs into your flesh and makes you bleed a slow, torturous death. Love is the prison that confines you to the unending darkness that absorbs chunks of your sanity with each fleeting second. Love is an immortals worst nightmare." ― Dahlia L. Summers
1. Prologue

Alright, peeps, listen up! Actually, wait, that sounded awfully harsh :) Greetings fellow fanfic….you get the point. First and foremost; thank you eternally for reading this. Really, to take time out of your schedules for my babbling? Couldn't be thankful enough. Second; no trolls. And by that I mean no "you're gay" "This is gay" "you're wasting your life" blah blah blah. I like criticism and I use it to help my writing but let's be grownups shall we? Yes, this is going to be first PoV. Yes she's an OC. Yes this'll be a WEE bit AU, such as maybe the times not matching up, and yeah, I want it as a gory, smutty, angsty, tragedy…with a hint of fluff for taste. Warning from the start so you don't tsk and turn away midway through because it's not what you expected.

Again, thank you for reading, thank you for the reviews (if I get any) and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it :)

-Sylleth

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**There's No Remedy For A Memory**

I don't think Crowley ever loved me. Just saying that off the back. No, I'm not trying to start an argument so someone can start assuring me about 'what's there not to love' and all that pity banter. I don't want that. Simply, I think it's the truth. After all, Crowley is a demon. And, in all truth, demons don't love no matter how romantic you get. But…they do seem to get rather possessive. If something was theirs they didn't want others touching it, especially if it was the King of Hell that decided he liked something. Which also, in all truth, was not romantic. Trust me; you do not want a possessive demon to take a liking in you. It may be fun and cute at first but, believe when I say it turns into a nightmare filled with suffering, hatred, and loss.

See, the big problem was-is that I loved him. _Still_ love him, for that matter. And hate him. Loath him with every fiber of my being and wish the worst possible suffering unto him…even if I know I'd take his place in a heartbeat. Even though I'd willingly cut my own throat if it meant his survival, even his happiness, if such a thing existed in the demon world. I love Crowley, and he doesn't love me, and I'm okay with that.

My only regret, the only _real_ regret I have is that…well…I suppose that doesn't matter anymore. Does it?

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Sorry for the very short intro, I swear there'll be more tomorrow. It's late and I have work in...oh look at that, five hours. Shout out to sleep-deprivation!


	2. Chapter 1

**Everybody's Rushing Me**

Today was one of _those_ days. Work was hell, the customers were hell, the weather was hell. Like the universe decided to have a day of fun and shit all over my existence. Above all, my car had to break down and Bobby was out of town. No one to pick me up…so after a nine hour shift in a crummy restaurant with complaining customers and poor tips, I had to walk nearly ten miles in the cold fall weather, huddling in a worn jacket and the rather thin waitress uniform.

At this point I would have much rather gone with Bobby, or for him for that matter, to get that hunt of a nasty poltergeist done. Problem was, was that I wasn't exactly the hunter type. Well, I could hunt, just not as good as Bobby or the boys. So I took on the task of watching the house for the next few days. That was always an exciting time, answering phones and doing the research Bobby normally did. Which also, I wasn't as good as Bobby at that. In fact, compared to the older hunter I was basically incompetent in most skills other than cooking. Trust me; I wasn't great at that either. Just better than someone who once managed to set fire while cooking spaghetti. I'm also not exaggerating when I say that Bobby was a renowned genius in the world of hunting. I was all sorts of unbelievably lucky to be raised by him.

Before I get much further, I want you to know that to me Bobby might as well have been a father. I had one and I loved him very much, but when he died along with my mother, entirely different story, I was left to Bobby. He, of course, did his best to try and get me into a "normal" home. Even tried send me off to my grandparents who lived back in England. Never cared for them much seeing as they basically disowned my mother. But after lots of running off, protesting, a bit of crying and lots of shouting; Bobby finally caved. At nine years old I clawed my way into his life and refused to let go. Don't tell him this, but I think he's glad that I did. Since then he did the best he could to raise me, trying to keep me from the world of hunting, or at least the dangerous bits of actually going out in the field.

Which would bring me here; fifteen years later freezing and shivering walking the creaky steps of his old house; my home. Knowing that I'd be getting another sleepless night of staying up, taking calls, pretending to be chief of police and the FBI. Even before I stopped in front of the door I began to look for my keys. Patting my pockets, and rummaging through my purse. Only an army knife and some old receipts. Again I searched the pockets of my coats but found nothing. There was a moment in which I just stood still, glaring at the door as if it might have been the Devil itself before letting out a loud string of curses. Sure I could break my way in through a window or pick the lock. But that wasn't the point. It truly felt like the universe was working against me today, piling up menial things so I'd lose patience one little event at a time.

"Who is it?"

I froze at the voice. Muffled by the door but definitely coming from the other side. And despite the thick wood that separated us, I heard the accent, heard the low raspy drawl of his tone. "Crowley…" I sighed, shoulders drooping. Because that's all I needed today.

The door was flung open then, a smug demon on the other side, dressed in his ever pristine suit and holding a glass of amber liquid that no doubt was his favorite brand of scotch. "Why, hello love. Forget your keys?" he asked mockingly, eyes flashing a mischievous glint.

Don't get me wrong. I liked Crowley. A lot…more than I should have. In all honesty even those who loathed him at least respected him in some way. He had style, and charm which came with his job. Not to mention that he was one of those men that could make a girl of any age become speech impaired. At first glance you might have not thought much of him. I didn't. Saw him talking to Bobby, a demon of my height and stocky built. But it was the smirk that set me off. Dark and sinister and unnerving. He had me fumbling for words even before he opened his mouth. But todays, as I had mentioned before, was not a good day. And the last thing I needed was jittery feelings and a snarky demon to follow me around making suggestive comments.

"Why are you here?" I huffed, pushing pass him to get inside the warmth of the house. Kicking my shoes off I turned in time to see Crowley shut the door, chuckling bemused at my demand.

"Not even a hello? How have you been?" he asked sarcastically, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes making a show of wandering down my body. He always did that, with everyone for that matter. Male, female, inanimate object…Crowley liked to make you uncomfortable in your own skin. "Look at you, sweetheart, shivering from the cold. Would you like me to help warm you up?" He held his arms out a bit, smirk growing, eyes darkening.

Despite the nearly nauseating lurch of my stomach at the thought I managed to roll my eyes and shrug out of my coat. "For the love of God, Crowley…" I grumbled. This was usually the time that Bobby intervened. Snapped at the demon and tried to push me as far away from him as possible.

It wasn't that Bobby and Crowley were friends of any sort. But since the King of Crossroads decided to help us get Lucifer locked up he liked to pop in now and again to annoy the living crap out of Bobby. And yes, sometimes even help with finding the really odd and old lore. But that was mostly, I think, so that he wouldn't get shot and his suit ruined. Regardless of it all, I had a tendency to stick around when he popped by. And Bobby, being the ever protective hunter, apparently thought that I'd swoon and giggle and fall right into Crowley's arms. Maybe I would have if I wasn't such a stickler for my own pride.

"I hear he's busy. Try the Lord below! Which would in fact be yours truly, who would tell you to have at it." He said with another low chuckle before lowering his arms.

I opened my mouth to retort with another sarcastic comment but paused. His words not entirely making sense, causing me to think twice before speaking. "Lord below?" I repeated slowly. Another spark in Crowley's eyes. Another unsettling feeling in my gut. "What do you mean Lord below?"

"Come now, darling, I know you're clever enough to figure it out." My eyes narrowed at his statement. He couldn't actually mean what I thought he meant…could he? "You're looking at the new and improved King of Hell." Crowley stated, pride shining through on his face and in his voice. And, though I wouldn't admit to him in fear that his ego would grow and consume the world, I was impressed. Taking control of Hell, even if it was probably chaotic and in desperate need of a ruler, was no easy feat.

I let out a humorless scoff and gave a mocking bow. "Congrats, I'm proud of you." Turning my back to him I walked to the kitchen, rubbing my hands together for warmth and going straight to the kettle to start a cup of tea.

"How about a kiss for my achievement?" He quipped, seeming to be right behind me. It wouldn't have been a surprise, seeing as he had a tendency to poof around at times. Not nearly as much as Castiel, though. And always too close for comfort.

"How about a fist in your face instead?"

"Getting kinky already?" His words were low, hot breath hitting my ear. I shuddered, realizing he stood literally just behind me, and turned to shoot the demon my best glare.

"Man, personal space!" I snapped, taking a step to the side to get a cup, leaving Crowley chortling with amusement.

"Touchy tonight, are we?" he mused, jumping up to sit on the counter as if it might have been the most normal and causal thing for him to do. I only grunted in response. It was strange to be alone with Crowley. A fluttering sensation in my stomach that I pegged to be fear mixed with exhaustion. Because there was still fear in me, as any rational person would have felt being left alone with someone as dangerous as Crowley. "Where is Grumpy, anyways?" He inquired, voice just as light. Like it was normal for us to have conversations and hang out.

"Hunting," I replied honestly. There was no point in lying, no point in even retorting with something sarcastic. "There's a poltergeist a few towns over he's dealing with."

"And he's left you all alone?" Crowley mused. I turned just in time to see his signature smirk spread across his lips again. That very smirk that caused all sorts of twisting of my stomach, spinning into pretzel knots because apparently my hormones thought it was okay to start a party in his presence.

"Yeah, you know, because I'm twenty-four and just recently got out of pigtails, figured he could trust me enough to survive." My retort dripped of sarcasm, though it was nothing compared to his.

"When does the old man get back?" A frown creased my forehead as I turned slowly to look at him. He wasn't planning to annoy me for that long, was he? A few hours I could tolerate without letting anything slip…but any longer? Especially without Bobby here to intervene…I'd be screwed. And looking at Crowley I got a sinking feeling that he thought so too.

"I don't know," I replied slowly. "Should be home by tomorrow."

"So the entire night to ourselves, hmm?" My shoulders drooped and I let out an exaggerated groan of annoyance, turning to the now whistling teapot of water. "This ought to be fun."

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Woo! I actually kept my word and got a chapter up! First and foremost; I would like to thank the people that are apparently already following my story. Love to you all, you guys made my day. And second; if you don't like something or have ideas on a certain way this should go don't hesitate to tell me! I'm always looking for critique and such :)

Alright, second chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow and if not; hopefully by Tuesday. Lots of love!

-Sylleth


	3. Chapter 2

**You've Got That Medicine I Need**

"So, what are your plans for tonight?" Crowley asked. For the last twenty minutes he had been pestering me, asking what Bobby was hunting, exactly when he'd be home, what I'd be doing. Despite me sighing in exasperation, rolling my eyes, retorting with sarcastic comments; I didn't mind him nearly as much as I let on. In fact, my mood was slowly returning to normal, even happy. Crowley had that effect on you if you didn't want to put a knife in his back.

"Watch a movie, stay up. I have those to take care of since Bobby is gone." I said, nodding to the telephones as I finished making myself dinner. Too hungry to even go change first.

"You know, there are other ways you could spend your time staying up…much more _fun_ ways." He purred suggestively, his voice low and raspy. Few people could actually cause me to shiver because of something they said being ten feet away from me.

"You're incorrigible." I sighed, though there was the faintest twitch of a smile that tugged at the corner of my lips. Stirring honey into my cooling cup of tea I realized, with an ever sinking feeling, that Crowley was very much like a drug. No wonder Bobby tired so hard to keep me separated from the demon…I wondered for a minute if he knew this is how I would have reacted?

"Thank you," Crowley replied smugly.

Another sigh. Turning the stove off I turned to look at him, narrowing my eyes slightly and tried my best to look intimidating or stern or…something so he'd take a hint of taking me seriously. I don't think it worked very well, if anything it probably had his amusement grow. "I'm going to go change…you're going to stay here, understood?"

He tried to look innocent then, his eyes widening as he placed a hand over his chest. Probably the most generic and predictable move I had ever seen him do and yet he managed to pull it off as if it were his first time pretending to be innocent. "Would I—"

"Yes," I cut him off, looking at Crowley as though he were the most annoying being in existence. "Just…please, for once do as someone asks." It seemed that I had treaded near some dangerous territory. I saw his eyes darken, his smirk turn sinister. And for a split second I caught a glimpse of the demon that he was.

In case you never looked anything evil in the eye; don't. Save yourself the trouble, it's nauseating and mind-numbingly terrifying. For that split second I saw the cold in him, the murderer. A twisted soul who had killed hundreds without remorse. Who was capable of indescribable torture and was willing to go to any lengths to get _his_ way. A being who was currently a few feet away from me. Who I had just, in the most subtle of ways, reprimanded. Who if he so fancied…could snap my neck without a second thought or the smallest hint of regret. I think he was purposeful in doing so. Because for a minute I had begun to treat him like I would Dean or Sam or Bobby. Someone who I knew…who was on the same level as me. And despite his "friendly" nature during his visits, he wanted me to remember what he was and what he was capable of.

"I'll be waiting, darling." He said, voice to match the cold demeanor he had taken on.

I forced myself to roll my eyes and grumble something under my breath before walking away. And the second I reached the stairs, the second I was out of his sight I began to shake. Violent and momentary with an overwhelming wave of nausea that made my legs get weak. I drew in sharp breaths and for a second closed my eyes to regain my composure. I wasn't a weak person by any means. None of that damsel in distress crap. When you grow up around hunters you develop a thick enough skin to be able to deal, or else you leave the lifestyle by whatever means.

But it's different, seeing a mutilated corpse of a seven year old who got attacked by a wendigo, and the eyes of a thing who would willingly do it if it tickled his fancy. Letting myself one more violent shiver I finally stopped, cleared my throat, drew in a deep breath and continued up to my room. Trying to remind myself that he would have killed me by now if he wanted to. That it was Crowley and he liked to see people squirm and grovel out of fear. I'd just have to remember to stay a few feet away from the line that marked my death.

To my surprise Crowley had remained downstairs…or at least out of my sight. I changed, let my hair down, and after washing my face to get a bit more self-control back I went back downstairs. Crowley was looking through the files on the kitchen table, ones I was supposed to work on tonight. Again, upon seeing me, Crowley let his eyes wander down my body. And again I sighed, trying to ignore him, and went to pick up my dinner. The silence stretched, and I didn't break it. Even if it was a bit awkward, to say the least. Got especially bad when I sat down to eat and Crowley went about looking through the kitchen. His now empty glass left atop one of the counters.

I watched him with a slight fascination. The way he moved about, the things he looked at. It was a bit odd to be eating with him wandering around but it had gotten to the point where the silence had become so thick that saying anything at all would have been worse. Crowley didn't take notice in the tension or my staring, or if he did he didn't show any signs of it. For not the first time in my life I was happy that I was a rather quick eater, finishing up in a few minutes, couldn't have been more than five, though it felt like an eternity. Standing from my seat, still chewing my bite, I went to the sink and washed what dishes had accumulated over the last few days.

"So…are you just going to stick around and let the awkward silence stretch?" I asked, keeping my eyes downcast. Crowley chuckled and from the corner of my eye I saw him lean against the counter half a foot away from me.

"I don't mind the silence. It's your kind that makes such a big deal out of it." He said with a shrug. I almost sighed at haring his voice again. A damning thing to like it, but it was low and raspy and brought a sort of comfort to me. Or maybe it was the fact that he was talking again and I didn't have to suffer through the awkward that according to him I had created.

"I don't mind silence, just not with…strangers." I said, turning the water off and setting the dishes to dry. And I didn't. There were times Bobby and I would go hours, sometimes an entire day without talking. And it was never uncomfortable unless I had done something to get me into trouble.

"I'm a stranger?" Crowley asked, faking hurt in his voice. "You wound me, love."

"I _have_ a name." I said with an exasperated sigh. Not that I didn't like the pet names. But it was getting awfully hard not to grin when he called me love or darling or sweetheart. Did he know he had that effect on me? By the smirk I caught spreading on his lips I decided that the answer to that question was a most definite yes. "So, yes or no? Are you going to be sticking around?"

"Would you like me to?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly to the side. I considered the proposal, looking back at the phones hanging on the wall. It was such a dull job…especially with no calls. Sometimes worse when there were calls. And it wasn't as if I actually wanted him gone. The company was nice…especially since it was his. Not to mention that there was a sense of new found freedom without Bobby around to deflect every one of his comments for me.

So I gave a slight shrug, drying my hands on a towel. "I wouldn't mind it," I finally admitted. "Do you play chess?"

"Are you challenging me?"

I couldn't help but smile with amusement. "Yes I am." I said confidently.

Crowley chuckled and gave a nod to my request. "Then challenge accepted." I almost beamed. Bobby liked to play chess from time to time but he was never a fan. It was my father who had taught me when I was little. A man I never got a chance to beat. Absolute genius, in my opinion. But I was only eight and knew next to nothing about strategies at the time.

"I'll set it up in the living room," I told him, footsteps rather quick as I hurried to grab the board. It wouldn't exactly be a fair match and I knew that. If Crowley played chess, I could assume he had been for a while…long while. He was a demon who I was sure had a few years to him.

"Excited?" Crowley mocked, following me as I pushed things from the worn sofa to the floor, stacking some of the books onto Bobby's desk, and putting the wooden chessboard in the middle of the couch before taking a seat.

"It's been a while and I like the game." I shrugged, grabbing two pawns; black and white, and shuffling them behind my back before holding out my fists. "Choose?"

Crowley took a seat opposite me, glass of scotch back in his hand. "I never knew the old grump could play the game." He mused, finally pressing his fingers to the back of my left hand. A warmth spreading through them that cause a very slight shiver course through me. I turned my palm up; black.

"Damn…" I grumbled, turning the board. I never much liked to make the first move with the white figures. "And he doesn't, really. Not much, anyways. My da was the one who taught me." I explained, considering where I should make the move, finally choosing to one of the pawns.

"Right, you're not really Bobby's daughter." Crowley said with a nod, making his move and taking a sip from his glass. I knew that he was probably aware of just about everything that had happened in my life. He was like that, knowing things that he shouldn't, that would give him an advantage when manipulating someone or in the midst of a heated argument. After all, most hunters were a comment away from a psychological break down.

"No, my real parents died when I was little. Bobby raised me since then." I nodded, taking my time making a move. Trying to come up with a plan and thinking five steps ahead.

Crowley hardly looked at the board before pushing one of his figures forward not five seconds after I did mine. "How kind of him," he said, tone mocking and sarcastic.

I looked up from the board then. "Hey…he's a good guy." I said seriously. There was a lot of mocking I could tolerate, almost any directed at me, some at my parents, a lot that could be directed at the Winchesters. But not Bobby. He was a very big exception, to a lot of hunters I think.

He chuckled in response but actually refrained from saying another word about him. Which I was grateful for. A couple of moves passed before he decided to speak again. I had been too drawn in making plans and trying to concentrate to notice the silence starting to form again.

"How about we make this game a bit more interesting?" Crowley said, voice drawn out into something like a purr. I hummed in response, deciding whether or not sacrificing my rook was worth his bishop. "If I lose; you get a favor from me…but if you lose; I get a kiss."

Moving my piece I sputtered with laughter, looking up at Crowley to see if he was being serious. "What do you have in that glass, exactly?" But Crowley only stared back at me with a sick sort of amusement and an ever growing Cheshire grin. "Seriously?" I muttered, laughter dying. "You…do realize you don't get a soul out of it, right?"

"Of course not, love. Swear on my heart your soul will stay intact."

"You don't have a heart."

"The vessel does." I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to figure out what it was he was getting at, what he had planned. Like the chess game I was trying to look ten moves ahead…except that I couldn't put the pieces away and go back to my life if I lost at that game.

"What kind of favor are we talking?" That was a lot to offer on his end. And if I won it really would be a great advantage in case something happened and I did need a bit of outside help. Or maybe even a lot of it.

"Anything you'd like…save for destroying myself, that is." He replied as if the rules should have been obvious to me. I scoffed again, though the sound held no humor behind it. "Oh, come on darling. Don't be such a prude…this is going to end good either way."

"How is kissing me going to end good?"

"You'll see," he smirked. Again I thought, my mind a frantic mess. Kiss him? Favor was good on my part, yes…but what did kissing me have anything to do with it? What was the purpose if he wasn't making a deal? But there was a little part of me, a worm that managed to wiggle its way into my brain. Parasite, no less, that whispered for me to agree. To lose…because Crowley seemed ever so inviting. And the more I looked him in the eyes the harder it became to think. Kissing him couldn't possibly be that bad…and hadn't I thought about it before? To see what it would be like…to kiss someone…more importantly; to kiss him.

Suddenly I blinked rapidly, shook my head and looked back at Crowley with a maddening glare. "Hey! None of that crossroads shit with me." I snapped. Pesky demons…the worst of their kind. They had this tendency to draw you in, make you forget about rational things. To get all caught up in their charm and their smiles and agree to deals that had loopholes fit for the demons to take advantage of.

"Sorry, love, I can't help it." Crowley chuckled, holding his hands up in a sort of apology.

I grumbled an insult at him and looked down at the board, considering his words. Telling myself that I could win…I was good. And a favor from him? It could come in being so useful…a favor. That's it…that's what I needed. A favor from him. "Alright," I finally muttered, looking up at him, a nervous smile creeping to my lips. "If I win I get a favor from you. And if I lose that other thing."

Crowley smirked, looked down at the board and made a move of his own. "Excellent,"

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Sorry, sorry...I was going to have it up earlier today but my Internt decided to boot me off so I went to a movie instead :) But, there you have it! Woo! Chapter 2 already. Should get another one up pretty soon, I've got a bit of vacation so hopefully I won't slack. Again, thank you for everyone who's reading and the people who are still following and those who started. You have no idea how happy it makes me!

-Sylleth


	4. Chapter 3

**You Bring My Heart To Its Knees**

Despite Crowley's comments and means to distract me from the game, I managed to keep a rather good concentration. Playing harder than I ever had, really. And to my surprise, Crowley was a rather vicious player. In the sense that he never thought very long about his moves and wasn't afraid to sacrifice pieces. I did imagine him to be a more subtle chess player, pretend to be going one place before circling around and nicking your King. Perhaps it was to match his cunning nature. Regardless; I was losing. Despite trying best I could and pulling out every plan and trick that I had ever learned or read about; I was losing. And bad. A few more moves and there was no denying that my demise was in sight. And with each passing second my stomach sank lower and lower because that'd mean; I'd have to kiss him.

Don't get me wrong. The idea wasn't repulsing. Crowley did have that…charm around him. Not to mention that he really _was_ good looking. Plus his class, a nice refresher from the current day douche bags. Pardon my language but a lot of the younger generation truly was. And unlike them Crowley had an air of elegance and grace, always neat in his appearance. Even when he cursed you or threatened someone he retained his sophistication. So the idea of kissing him wasn't bad. It was simply that I didn't trust it to be an innocent kiss. Crowley didn't do something unless in some way it benefited him. So what was he getting at? What was he planning?

"Darling?" Crowley sang smugly, finishing his drink, setting his empty glass on the coffee table. "It's your move." He reminded.

I hummed in response, eyebrows knitted together. There had to be _some_ way to win. One tiny little flaw…some sort of hole in his plan. _Something_ still had to give me hope. But if there was; I didn't see it. And though I sighed and my shoulders drooped in defeat, I still made a move. If I was to go down I'd go down fighting. In my warped reality it somehow made sense. "I know, I know." I grumbled quite gloomily.

Crowley chuckled, quickly making his move. Knowing, like me, that I was a lost cause. "Oh, stop your pouting. I assure you your defeat isn't going to be as distasteful as you think it may be." He assured me with a wink. I only sighed, muttered a curse under my breath, and made another move. "Check," Crowley quipped, moving his piece almost as soon as I had taken the fingers off of mine.

"Why do you even care if you kiss me, huh?" I snapped, trying to reason. Hoping that maybe a few words would convince him enough that this really wasn't worth it.

"Lotus, you're acting as if you've never kissed anyone before." Crowley laughed. So I looked down and if it were possible; focused on the board more. There was a moment of silence in which I could have sworn I heard something in Crowley's pride or mind click. "You've never kissed anyone before?" he said, practically mocking me.

"Well, look around!" I said in a rather harsh tone, looking up at him, my face burning. I could only imagine the color it was becoming. "Do you see where I live? Do you think I have the time to get giggly? Besides…kissing never helped anyone." I huffed, moving my Queen. He took it with his knight.

"I'd beg to differ," Crowley replied with a wild smirk. Looking like he was the inspiration for Tim Burton's Cheshire. "Don't worry, love, I'll make sure to make your first kiss memorable….mate."

And there went my heart. Sinking so low I was pretty sure it had passed through the soles of my feet and into the ground. I stared at the board, like waiting for it to change. For some pieces to suddenly move about to form a scenario in which I had won the game. But it didn't happen, it wasn't _going_ to happen. I…had lost. I lost and instead of getting a favor from the King of Hell I would be forced to kiss him. Could I back out of the deal? It wasn't permanent; we didn't even shake on it. "This isn't fair, you know." I muttered like a child.

Crowley gave a hearty laugh at my reaction, causing the heat in my face to grow to what I assumed was a few degrees cooler than the surface of the sun. "I didn't force you into agreeing with me now did I?"

I made a face at him, cleaning up the pieces. Watching him out of the corner of my eyes as though expecting him to jump at me at any given moment. My stomach was twisting violently, making me jittery, causing my breathing to become irregular and heart beat in an unusual rhythm. So loud that I was sure he could hear it. This was bad to say the least. If Bobby were to _ever_ get even the _slightest_ whiff of what happened, of what I actually agreed to he'd lock me up until I was eighty. And in all likelihood cut off what made Crowley a man. Or, what made Crowley's vessel a man.

I got up from the sofa, turning my back to him, shuffling over to store the chessboard away. Trying to ignore the fact that I actually felt rather weak at the knees and felt as though I was wracked by a cold wave of shivers. "Look, all I'm saying is that we'd both be better—" as I turned back around, expecting to find Crowley on the sofa, I instead found him standing in front of me. Much too close for comfort with a knowing smirk gracing his lips. A twinkle in his eyes that let me know he was having a laugh at me. "—better off if we keep the game just a game."

"Are you telling me that you're not a woman of your word?" He asked innocently, reaching out to take hold of a strand of my hair. Careful not to actually touch me as he pulled it back behind my ear. It had the same effect, my breath getting stuck somewhere in my throat. Was I a hundred percent sure that I was conscious? By the pain of my fingers pinching my thigh my answer was sadly a yes.

"That's low," I muttered. A woman of her word, it _was_ low for him to say and Crowley knew it. I was raised to keep my promises. If nothing else, Bobby had taught me rather well to be honest.

Crowley's smirk grew, fingers tracing a feather light trail down my arm. It burned. It actually felt like it burnt the flesh, though I knew it was just a reaction of my nerves. That _bastard_. He was actually going to _toy_ with me, reduce me to a blabbering mess before taking what he had won. There was no doubt that he was a demon. "Come now, darling, you can't tell me that you really don't want this. Admit it…you're curious."

_Yes_. "No." _Liar_.

He chuckled and brought his hand up to brush back more hair. This time letting the calloused pads of his fingers run along my cheek as he leaned in and stopped just by my ear. "I think you're lying." He murmured, his breath warm against my ear. Did his lips just brush against my skin? I think so…I really think so. Oh god...he couldn't actually do this. _I_ couldn't do this. Crowley pulled away, smirking at my reaction. His eyes darting to my lips. "You need to relax, dear, it's not like I'm taking your soul."

My eyes narrowed at him and I allowed a slight sigh escape my lips. Relax? How in God's name was I supposed to _relax_? "That's not helping. Can't you just…get it over and done with?" I snapped rather harshly. That singular thought running through my mind. _Why_ was he doing this? What sort of benefit could he possibly gain?

"You make it sound so cheap." He said in fake hurt. Again his fingers ran along my jaw. Down to my neck and up into my hair. Though he made sure to press against my scalp, to tug slightly at the roots of my hair. No more ghost touches, he made sure to make it clear what was to happen and the fact that he was allowed to touch me without getting smacked or shoved back. "I'm telling you, darling, _relax_." He purred. "I'm not going to bite…much."

I didn't even have the will to glare at him. And then his other hand was pressing against my hip. Fingers pressing into the skin through the fabric. At least there was a shirt, though it did little to help. Crowley tugged at my hair, tilting my head slightly, moving forward to hover his lips above mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath and despite trying as hard as I could; I gave a shiver. I shivered and kept my eyes open. Afraid of…I wasn't even sure what. I just knew that this was a terribly awful idea and that nothing good could ever come of it.

And then his lips were pressing against mine. An undeniable kiss, his hand fisted in my hair to keep me in place. I still kept my eyes open, frowning and trying to get through it all without trying to jerk back. His grip on my hip tightened slightly, and he pulled me against him. Forcing the space to become nonexistent between us. Forcing me to realize that being pressed against him wasn't entirely…bad. Or unpleasant. Slowly he moved his lips, like being careful not to go too fast. My eyes slid shut. Despite trying so damn hard to keep my eyes open they closed and I wasn't seeing a damn thing…which had me focus on the feeling of his lips against mine that much more. And to my surprise his lips were…they were warm. And rather soft and the kiss wasn't bad…for Christ's sake; it wasn't bad.

Was I enjoying it?

Crowley's tongue suddenly pressed against the seam of my lips, running along the line…and I parted them. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue in my goddamn mouth. What was worse? The fact that he was taking advantage or the fact that I was liking it? It was sickeningly…good. The taste oddly pleasing, something like aged scotch mixed with…sulfur, I think. And it was sickeningly good. Were my muscles relaxing? Crowley slipped his arm around my waist, now. I think I heard him chuckle. Did he chuckle? Laugh because I was beginning to enjoy it? Could've sworn he did…didn't he? Bastard. That bastard was laughing at me. Then why wasn't I shoving him back? _Because you like it_. Great…and now my mind was laughing at me as well.

But what the hell? He was going to kiss me regardless of whether I tried to push against him or not. I could enjoy it for a bit…no harm in that, right? Even as I thought it I knew that was a lie. A horrible mistake to relax against him, terrible fault to grip his jacket in my fingers. Was I breathing? I don't think so. Again I began to shake, my mind drawing a painfully long blank. The kiss was hell-fire…it burned and reminded me just how stupid I really was. And then he was pulling away, my lip in between his teeth, tongue grazing against it before he let me go entirely. Dropped his hold and let me stagger slightly and stare. I was staring at him with what I assumed was a rather dumbfounded look, panting and feeling as though my heart was hooked up to a car battery.

And he was smirking.

I never wanted to wipe a smile off someone's face as much as I did now. Do something extremely harmful to make him howl in pain and glare…not smirk in satisfaction. In _triumph_. Because I had been reduced into a compliant mess who…kissed him back. To the best of my abilities, I had kissed him back. Staring at him I tried to straighten up. Still felt his hands on me, still felt him pressed against me and his lips on mine and tongue mapping my mouth. I could still _taste_ him. And it was absolutely terrifying. I wasn't meant to like that, he was a _demon_. A very _bad _demon who, to my knowledge, still held Bobby's soul.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Crowley mocked. He was still mocking me…of course. That bastard. But what else was I to expect; he was a demon. That was kind of part of his job description.

"Dick," I grumbled, turning back to fix things on the shelves. Just so I wouldn't have to stare at him with a burning face.

"Don't worry, darling…I'll make sure to keep this between me and you." He murmured in my ear. Hand almost teasingly brushing against my hip, pausing slightly before he moved away entirely. I shuddered at the sensation, swallowed hard and forced myself to draw in deep breaths.

Turning around I was almost expecting him gone. Or, hoped he'd be gone. He got what he wanted, he could leave. There was no use sticking around…but, as my wonderful luck may have it, I turned around to find him refilling his glass of scotch. Frowning distastefully I crossed my arms over my chest, doing the best I could to appear unaffected by the kiss. Which was pointless seeing as I reacted very much to it and we both knew it. "You're not leaving yet?" I huffed.

"Why would I, darling?" Crowley said with a smirk, licking his lips as though he were remembering the kiss. Maybe he was. In all likelihood he was just trying to taunt me. "Tonight is going so well, I can't wait to see what the rest of my stay brings."

* * *

...Giggidy.


	5. Chapter 4

**So Go On, Infect Me**

"_Antiquis temporibus, nati tibi in rupibus ventosissimis exponebantur ad necem_!" I practically yelled at him, my words slightly slurred together. _In the good old days, children like you were left to perish on windswept crags_.

Crowley had, as promised, been pestering me and sticking around the entire night. I got three calls since the kiss, two which needed confirmations about FBI agents and one asking when Bobby was getting back. To ease my nerves and Crowley's seemingly never ending comments I began to drink with him. Lots of drinking, as a matter of fact. Now at three in the morning I was sitting very un-lady like, as Crowley was so kind to point out, on the sofa watching an episode of Maury and bantering with the demon if the current male on the show was or was not the father of the illegitimate child.

Crowley glared at me, a murderous look in his eyes. Though I wasn't quite sure if it was from the fact that I was using Latin or because I was starting to insult him rather freely. Regardless, if looks could kill I'd be dragged down to Hell by now. Except that, instead of being afraid I burst into a wide grin, too drunk to care. And Crowley followed in suite when I began to cackle uncontrollably. "Where in bloody 'ell did you learn that?" Unlike me; he wasn't entirely drunk. Though the more glasses he emptied the thicker his accent became.

I gave a shrug and took another long drink from the cheap vodka bottle. "I get bored when I do research."

"You know, if it were anyone else talking to me like that I'd have them killed in an instant." Crowley mused, his voice threatening and low as he smirked over the rim of his glass.

"_Brutum fulmen." Harmless thunder_, I said with a wave of my hand. If he would have wanted to kill me he would have done that already. And he most likely wouldn't have been getting drunk with me prior to it.

"Don't tempt me darling." I looked at him then, swaying slightly in my spot, and narrowed my eyes at the demon. The only light in the room came from the television, illuminating Crowley's sinister features in red and blue hues, making him look all that much more threatening and wicked.

However, in my current state I was hardly fazed. "_Apudne te vel me?" _I asked with a wiggle of my eyebrows and what I hoped appeared to be a seductive and not entirely drunk smirk. _Your place or mine? _Crowley threw his head back and laughed heartily, the sound rather foreign seeing as it wasn't followed by some gruesome bit of torture. I cracked a drunken smile and took my final sip of vodka before setting the nearly empty bottle down. Enough was enough. A little more and I'd be waking up without memory of today and, as damning as it was, I wanted very much to remember my unusual time spent with Crowley.

"You keep this up and I might not be able to control myself." Crowley winked, settling back down to his usual chortling.

I let my shoulders rise and fall in a shrug, sighed, and leaned my head back against the back of the sofa. "What makes you think I'll mind?" I asked and then immediately shook my head. "I really need to ease up on the drinking."

"Oh, I don't know, darling. It doesn't' seem to be like such a bad idea." Crowley murmured, his lips suddenly nuzzling against the side of my neck. I shuddered, closed my eyes, realized what was happening and jolted away from him as though he just administered an electric shock to me.

"Hey, I'm not _that_ drunk yet." I grumbled, quickly standing to put more distance between us, maybe start cleaning up. It was late enough and I hadn't had a call in a few hours. Some sleep would definitely do me good. But as I stood I stumbled, my head spinning and black spots dancing in front of my eyes. "Woah," I muttered, trying to steady myself so I wouldn't fall.

But someone was already holding me in place, hands on my hips, fingers pressing into my flesh. I glared at Crowley, who simply stood smirking, much too close for my comfort. "Having some difficulties there?" He purred, one hand leaving my hip, trailing up my side, to my stomach, further over my chest and to my neck. Fingers pushing back hair to expose more skin. I stood, frozen in my spot but trembling slightly from his touches, staring at him with wide eyes. Was that his fault I couldn't move away? "I'm not going to hurt you, Lotus." He cooed softly.

"Stop…" I murmured, shaking my head, holding no actual power in my word. Wanting so desperately to move back but unable to find it in me to actually take that step. He smirked, bemused at my behavior. I couldn't even think…it was so damningly hard. Like my mind was foggy, like I had drank a lot more than I thought I did. "No…"

"Shh…" He hummed, winding his arm around my waist. With a tug he had me pressed firmly against him, easing the tension off my legs from having to force myself to stand. His other hand ran along my cheek and tangled in my hair, pulling gently at the roots. "You need to relax." Crowley murmured. I could hardly breathe. This couldn't be happening…shouldn't be, more accurately. He was a demon…a demon! Enemy, he was bad he was the thing I was meant to hunt down and kill.

Leaning forward he pressed his lips to mine, soft and…gentle. Hell…Crowley was being _gentle_. I didn't respond. Not immediately, anyways. But soon I was kissing him back best I knew how, letting him take lead as my mind emptied of all rationality. His tongue pressing against the seam of my lips and so I parted them without a second thought, letting his tongue map out my mouth. Then I heard a soft moan…_my _moan. I was actually enjoying this…fucking hell I was enjoying _everything_ that he was doing. My fingers clenched in his suit jacket and with a few tugs I had pulled it off and let it drop carelessly to the floor. He pulled back, leaving my breathless and body burning and tingling, like every nerve was suddenly jolted awake by maddening bursts of electricity. Then he was kissing my neck, teeth grazing my skin, biting gently and running his tongue over the sensitive spot before moving to a fresh patch, making me quiver with an ever growing desire. His hands ran across my torso, fingers pressing into every crook and crevice, like he was seeking to find and memorize every bit of me. Feeling his fingers dance across my lower back I jerked and arched forward, breath hitching in my throat.

Hell…this was hell. What was I doing? In Bobby's house…in his living room. I was meant to be doing research. Meant to be keeping tabs on those phones. Please, God…let one ring. Let a phone ring so I have a reason to tear away. A sudden roll of Crowley's hips made my thoughts vanish in an instant and I had to bite down on another wanton moan. Crowley pulled away, smirking like your grade A maniac.

"Suddenly not so hateful, are we?" he purred.

I jerked and my eyes snapped open. It took me a minute to realize I was sleeping on the worn sofa, bottle of vodka still cradled in my hands. The room was growing light, the television still buzzing quietly. Dream….it was just a dream. A dream that still had my heart beating furiously and my breathing labored. I sighed, groaned, and threw my head back against the worn cushions. Fantastic. I was having these dreams about him now? Actually, where was Crowley? Sitting up I was met with an empty room, an empty bottle of scotch left beside an empty cup on the coffee table and a neatly folded piece of paper leaning against it with my name written in elegant black writing.

Grunting as I sat up I took a drink from my bottle before setting it down. A faint headache forming from last night's drinking. For not the first time in my life I praised the Lord that I didn't have harsh hangovers. Taking the note I looked it over before unfolding the paper. More writing inside, the letters neat and curved as Crowley was.

'_Had to dash, love, my deepest apologies for not waiting for you to wake. But I am a busy King. Can't wait to do this again, sometime. Lots of kisses, Crowley._'

And that would have been fine. The note would've made me grin, roll my eyes, and move on about my day. Even the kiss he had given the night before would have eventually left my mind…but Crowley didn't leave the note at that. At the bottom was written one more thing,

'_P.S. I'm curious to see what made you moan my name so sweetly in your sleep.'_

No…no, _hell_ no, no, no, no. I didn't…there was no way in hell that I did. I couldn't have. Did I? I hardly ever spoke in my sleep. It was very, unbelievably rare, that it happened. I couldn't have actually _moaned_ his name…he must've been lying. A trick. He said that to see how I'd react when he asked so that if I did dream about him he'd know…right? That made sense. Crowley would do that.

"Fuck!" I shouted.

That bloody kiss. _That's_ what he wanted to do. That infecting, poisonous, vile…_worm_ of a demon. He just needed to make it memorable, the rest my mind would do for him. Make the kiss memorable and I'd never stop thinking about it. Too much drinking and then the dreams would jumble until my mind decided to play something like _that_ out. And God damn…dreams _never_ left me. They'd cause people, me included, to feel what was felt in the dream even after you woke up. That flustered jittery feeling of being kissed, held like that, of feeling my nerves light with his touches. I knew it'd stay throughout the day. And the more I thought about it the more likely of a chance that I'd have a repeat dream.

Crowley never did anything without reason.

Upon hearing the familiar engine of a beaten down truck I bolted up and grabbed the empty bottle and glass off the table, note between my teeth as I rushed to the kitchen to dispose of the bottle. If Bobby saw and recognized it I'd have some explaining to do which was really the last thing I wanted to deal with this morning. As I was about to crumble up the note ad toss it out too I paused…staring down at my name on the paper. Try as I may I couldn't bring myself to do it. Another Latin curse left my lips with a sigh as I tucked the note in the back pocket of my jeans and made my way to the front door to greet Bobby.

I was so unbelievably in the worst way possible; screwed.

* * *

Hehehehe...giggidy. xD Sorry for the long break. I had exams on Saturday...and I passed! Done with the course, yay :D Then I slept for an entire day xD BUT on the bright side I am done which should leave me more time to work on this. Which I am having too much with :3  
ALSO: I received my first review, you know who you are, and flailed uncontrollably for a good ten minutes. Thank you so much! I was walking around all happy for a good three days.

Alright, well, thank you again for reading! As always, lots of love,

-Sylleth


	6. Chapter 5

**Creepin' Up The Backstairs**

"Hey, look at that, still in one piece!" I exclaimed with a wide smile, walking down the creaky steps of Bobby's porch barefoot, arms outstretched as I watched the older hunter climb out of his seemingly beaten down truck.

"You're not exactly a sight for sore eyes either, you know." He grumbled, unable to hide a grin, reaching for his duffle-bag. I chuckled, making my way to him to take the bag from his hand.

"Here, let me help, grampa, don't want your back to give out." I teased with a wink.

"Oh, shut up, idjit." He sighed, giving me a one armed hug. This was normally how our interactions went, greeting each other after a hunt. I'd tease, he'd grumble, then I'd force him to eat something and get some sleep. I liked to take care of Bobby like that. No matter how much time passed I'd never be thankful enough for what he had done. And not just for me, for that matter. For everyone. So many of the hunters took Bobby for granted. So when I could; I'd do my best to help. Whether it was letting him sleep for a while or make a warm meal or sometimes simply bringing him a beer. And I don't think he minded it much.

"How are you, though? How was the hunt?" I asked, walking along his side back to the house, looking him over to see if there were any visible bruise or cut marks.

Bobby sighed heavily and shook his head, his eyes rolling slightly. "It wasn't a poltergeist." He told me, opening the door so I could walk through first. "A group of kids decided that buying a haunted item off of eBay was a good idea." I nearly snorted with laughter, setting his duffle bag down by the door. In most cases when people said something was haunted it wasn't. That much was true. But now and again the poor bastards would stumble across something truly harmful and either wind up dead or eternally traumatized.

"What was it then?" I asked, going to the fridge for eggs and sausage. After a warm breakfast he could go sleep a while. By the looks of him I figured he didn't get any rest while away. He looked exhausted, to be honest, disheveled and worn from either a struggle against whatever it was that he had been hunting or dealing with the people who bought the item.

"A Dybbuk." Bobby sighed, lowering himself into one of the chairs. I looked at him a bit surprised, eyebrows raised.

"A Dybbuk? Where the hell did they get a Dybbuk from?"? I asked, cracking eggs into a bowl, setting a pan to heat on the stove. It wasn't very different from a poltergeist, but perhaps a bit more violent when you fell asleep. I read a few legends about them but never thought we'd have to deal with one ourselves. As far as I knew they were virtually nonexistent anymore. Then again, there had been odd monsters popping up all over the country of late.

"You're asking me." Bobby grumbled, leaning forward as he ran his hands over his face and let out a long yawn. "Well…what's done is done. I got it taken care of." He said with a nod. I mixed milk into the beaten eggs before pouring them into the skillet, cutting up bits of sausage and mixing for scrambled eggs. "How about you? Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

I had to bite my lip to the near point of breaking the skin to stifle the laughter. At least my back was turned. But how was I supposed to keep a straight face when I had a near make-out session with Crowley before getting piss drunk with him and passing out? "Uh, no. Not really." I finally replied, clearing my throat. "A few calls. Dan called looking for you."

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No. I asked but I guess it wasn't so important. He just said he'd call in a few days when you were home."

"Hmm…any trouble with anything else?" Bobby hummed. I turned to see a frown on his face, staring at the table as though it was supposed to give him an answer. Had he been waiting for an important call?

"No. Surprisingly. Not even with the authorities." I told him honestly, grabbing a clean plate from the cabinet and loading it with the cooked food. "Well, my car broke down. I left it by the diner, but that's about the extent of something happening." Adding a fork and some tomato slices I set the plate in front of Bobby and smiled, studying his expression. "Something wrong?"

"Hmm?" He brought his eyes up to mine and smiled immediately, giving a nod. "No, everything's good. Sorry kiddo, just thinking is all. Thank you, looks delicious." Bobby nodded to the plate, picking up his fork and immediately busying himself with eating. I wondered if he was being truthful or outright lying. Some days it was hard to tell. Bobby was a tricky man to figure out, even if I had lived with him the better part of my life. "We can get your car back here after—"

"You get some sleep." I cut him off, knowing he would offer to do so after breakfast. "It can wait. I have a few days off, anyways, and you look overdue for a good few hours of rest." He took another bite and nodded, unmistakable gratitude shining in his eyes as he smiled again.

"You're an angel."

I glared at him as he smirked jokingly. He liked to call me that, after we had met Castiel. Whenever I attempted to do something nice and he was in a relatively good mood, I became "angel". "Hold on, I'll go grab my trench coat." I drawled, earning a low chuckle from Bobby. "Finish eating, I'll start laundry and get your bag upstairs." I told him, patting his hand before standing up.

"Thank you, Lo." He called as I moved to the living room. Which was when I froze in my step, eyes narrowing as I stared at the sofa.

That bastard…I walked swiftly to the armrest and grabbed the tie, stuffing it in my pocket before hurrying off to the stairs. He left his tie. I knew that at some point Crowley had gotten comfortable, his jacket open, few buttons undone and tie off. But to leave it? He knew damn well that if Bobby would have seen that I would have been neck deep in trouble. Which said something about my lifestyle, seeing as explaining spots of blood was so much easier than a tie. But if Bobby would have seen it, it wasn't as if I could have just lied and said it was his. Bobby had very few ties and those that he did were shoved deep in his closet. Only seeing the light when it was absolutely necessary.

"I am going to kill you…" I muttered under my breath, dropping Bobby's duffle bag on his bed before opening it up. Drawing out his dirty clothes to take to the hamper.

What _would_ Bobby do if he knew? If he knew what I had done, or the mixed feelings that I had or the time I spent with Crowley the night before? In fact…what _were_ my feelings for the demon? Alright, so the hormones went haywire when he was around. I found him attractive, which was understandable. And he did have his charm and charisma, especially being a Crossroads King. But why was it that him being a demon, an eternal prick and thorn in our side, wasn't lessening the attraction? In fact, it did almost absolutely nothing in making me like him less? I groaned quietly, dragging the nearly full hamper down to the laundry room. _No…don't you even dare go there with you crushing on a fucking demon. Come on, Lo! Man up._ I thought bitterly to myself, then laughed at the attempt.

Right, like that ever worked for anyone.

* * *

Ahhh! I'm sorry for the long delay! Honestly, I wish I had a legitimate reason as to why it took so long but...I don't...I really don't xD I've been sleeping and working and playing video games like mad so basically; I've been lazy. Deepest apologies for those who are reading this. And more so; I come back with a filler chapter xD So...Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, to you guys, I hope to get the next chapter up soon :) And also, FYI, I won't ever abandon this story without a notice. So if I decide to actually stop; I'll make sure to let you know. Again, so sorry for the wait!

-Sylleth


	7. Chapter 6

**It Was Said She Was Raised by the Praise of a Furious Man**

For about two weeks we hit an unusual calm. There were few to no calls, no odd visits or need to hide bodies. Trust me, that happened more than you'd think. But it was a nice break from everything. Even Crowley had begun to slip my mind, though I dreamt of him more often than not. And every morning that I woke up I'd remember his note…mostly because it was on my nightstand. Don't judge, he had pretty handwriting…and it was a nice reminder. Aside from the whole, moaning his name in my sleep ordeal, I truly did enjoy that night. But that was the big problem. As much as I prayed and hoped that he would forget about the whole dreaming thing or that in fact, it was nothing more than a joke, I had a sinking feeling that I'd hear about it again.

Sometime in the middle of the second week after Bobby had come home, I was waking from a particularly blissful night of no dreaming. No nightmares, no gore and more importantly; no Crowley. Groaning and stretching under my covers I sunk into the mattress, hugging the pillow to my face. Sighing in relief of being well rested.

"You drool in your sleep, do you know that?"

My eyes sprung open within the second, body running cold and heart dropping somewhere by my feet. As I brought my gaze up to the figure sitting on the edge of my bed I let out another groan, though this one held an inhuman amount of annoyance. "Why are you in my room?" I whined like a child, curling tighter into a ball and drawing the sheets closer around me.

Crowley chortled, legs crossed, smug grin on his lips as he stared down at me with a particularly mischievous spark in his eyes. "Just seeing if I could catch you muttering my name again." He shrugged, causing my to groan once more. Faking crying as I buried my face in the pillow and tried to draw the covers over my head. "Oh, come on now darling, stop the whining. I know you enjoyed that night as much as I did. There's no need to be dramatic about it."

"Go away…it's too early for me to deal with you." I whined, turning my back to him, wanting nothing more than to ignore the demon. In my bed. Crowley was literally in my bed. Why couldn't he be normal and simply try to kill me?

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to turn your back to a demon, love?" He purred, voice suddenly in my ear. His hand pressed firmly against my hip, body close to mine as he leaned over me. I opened my eyes and mustered up my best glare, looking at him with pursed lips.

"If you don't get your hand off of me…I will rip it off and beat you with it." I said in a low and threatening voice. It might have actually gotten someone normal to move away. But this was Crowley I was dealing with and instead of backing away his lips stretched into an amused smirk.

"Frisky in the mornings, are we?" He teased, his fingers tightening around my side. I opened my mouth to retort with another threat but with a quick and smooth tug found myself on my back. Staring up at Crowley who was pressing me down firmly into the mattress. "Need I remind you of who I am, love?"

Again his eyes sparked something dangerous and wicked. And again I felt a frightful shiver run down my spine. But at this hour of what had started off being such a perfect morning I couldn't really care less. He knew very well that if he was to kill me he'd have Bobby to deal with and being a new King of Hell I doubted it was a hassle he was willing to put himself through. So I narrowed my eyes at him, teeth grinding together in annoyance. "Get off of me you self entitled prick." I snapped, giving a hard shove against his hold.

"Bloody hell, woman, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Crowley grumbled, pulling back though not standing from the bed. Instead he fixed his tie and the lapels of his suit jacket, like I had just slapped and offended him. I, in turn, gawked with sheer surprise. Was he seriously asking me why I was so irritated?

"You!" I finally exclaimed, nearly sputtering as I pushed myself to sit up. "You do not just come in here and watch me sleep you weirdo. " but with the covers fallen down to my waist his eyes fell down to a different part of my anatomy, eyebrows raising slightly, like he was oblivious to what I was saying. "Stop staring at my boobs!" I hissed, just barely remembering that Bobby was somewhere in house.

"I'm sorry…did you say something?" Crowley muttered purposefully, smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. There was a gurgle of noises that left the back of my throat as I ran my hands over my face. It wasn't as if I was in the nude, don't get me wrong. I had a bra on, and when you're in this line of work when people come baring all sorts of wounds you have to fix up that sort decency simply goes out the window of being embarrassed or bashful. Once I had a hunter drag his partner in, half torn from a werewolf attack and I was in the shower with Bobby in town getting groceries so until he got back I worked with a towel around me to save his life, and as it may be towels aren't exactly very reliable when you're moving around. It wasn't my idea of a perfect time and obviously I preferred to be clothed but there was no one but Bobby and me here so the idea of sleeping in my underwear never crossed as being somehow bad or problematic. And I knew for a fact that Crowley had seen his fair share of…well…just about everything. So this big show of him staring was simply unbelievably annoying. I guessed it was what he was going for, so I suppose it worked on his behalf.

"Alright," I huffed, bending my knees and wrapping my arms around them. Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration and doing my best to be civil. If this were Dean, after all, I would…well, I'd beat him out of my room with a pillow and put laxatives in his pie...did Crowley eat pie? "What is it that you actually came here for?" Though there was still a substantial amount of annoyance in my voice it was calm and steady at least.

"Down to business already? No morning romp?" he asked, hint of melancholy in his voice. Even I couldn't help a slight scoff at this point.

"Sorry, maybe next time." I drawled, smile persistent on sticking on my lips. Damn that demon.

"I'll hold you to that." Crowley murmured in a low voice. "But, since you asked so nicely, I heard Bobby hunted down a Dybbuk?"

I gave a slight shrug of my shoulders. "Yeah…why are you coming to me, then?"

Crowley chuckled and grinned. "You look a lot more…appealing that the old drunk in the morning."

"Just the morning?" I faked hurt in my voice and earned an actual laugh from the demon. Though it was quiet and short, it still made me a bit proud of being able to do so. "Really, though, he was the one on the hunt. It was a few town over, some kids bought an allegedly haunted wine cabinet from eBay and it turned out to be actually haunted, blah blah blah…Bobby took care of it. If you want details you'll have to go to him. I just got the basics."

"And you're sure it was a Dybbuk?" Crowley asked, though it was a bit more than curiosity in his voice.

I frowned and gave a nod. "Yeah, well, he was. So am I, then." If us two could figure out that there had been an unusual activity of rare and downright bizarre monsters then I didn't doubt that Crowley did too. And if he was asking question then there was a good chance he knew what was going on. Or at least had an idea. "What's up?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as I watched for his reaction. Might as well have been trying to read a wall, though. Crowley would had to have been in some major anguish of some sort to give anything away. Even when he was being honest he looked dishonest. "With all the heeby-jeeby things popping up everywhere? Even the normal ones are crawling out of their holes more than usual."

He looked at me with raised eyebrows, amused smile spreading across his face. "It's a secret, darling." When he tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger I was starting to hope that my glares would actually start shooting real daggers. "Can't go telling my secrets to every pretty face I meet."

A heavy and slow sigh left my lips as I dipped my head down and into my hands. "You are…incorrigible." I grumbled, throwing the covers back and moving around him to get out of bed.

"Thank you." He quipped, like I had given him an unbelievably flattering remark. "My, my…quite the array of tattoos you've got there." I heard him murmur as I went to my closet, grabbing the first pair of pants I could find and slipping into them.

"Yeah…it's so they keep annoying bastards like you out of me." I said over my shoulder, looking for a warm shirt. Admittedly I had a bit more than was needed but at sixteen when you get permission to get a tattoo you might…get a bit carried away. I did at least. Covering most of my back, parts of my sides and the very upper of my thighs with an arrangement of different protection symbols I had found in books.

"Oh, love…trust me when I say those are going to do nothing to keep me out in the way that I want to get in." I snorted with laughter at his statement, pulling on an old t-shirt and a zip up hoodie on top.

"My God, Crowley, its morning!" I laughed, turning back to catch his eyes starting the trail up only after I had turned around.

"Actually, it's noon."

"Well it's morning to me," I said with a roll of my eyes, still chuckling as I went to put my hair up.

"Then it's your problem, not mine." Crowley rose from the bed, straightening his jacket and tie. "Now…go on and wake the surly drunk so I can talk to him."

"Can you _please_ call him by his name?" I sighed, opening the door to my bedroom. Except that instead of being able to walk out I found Bobby standing on the other side, hand raised to knock on my door. His eyes lingered on me for a second before darting to the demon that stood a few feet behind.

"It's not what it looks like! I know it appears like we're having a chat but we're actually having sex." Crowley said with a dramatic expression of fear and an inhuman amount of sarcasm in his voice. Even I knew better than to keep standing in the way and moved quickly to the side when I saw Bobby's jaw clench and grind.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He snarled, voice dangerous yet relatively calm. I avoided his gaze, staring down at my feet and bit my tongue to keep from laughing. It was such an awful trait to have, laughing when you're nervous. Which I was beyond belief.

"What do you think? Snogging and shagging." Crowley retorted without missing a beat. "So if you'd be so kind to shut the door on the way out…"

"Oh come on." I whined, letting a chuckle slip through. "He's here about the Dybbuk you hunted."

Bobby looked down at me and instantly I grew silent again. "We'll talk later."

"Sorry…looks like I got you in trouble with daddy dearest." Crowley apologized, voice ringing with sarcasm and amusement. "But, and as much as it wounds me to say this; she's right. I'm only here about the hunt."

"And I'm going to go…hide under a rock or something." I muttered quietly, slipping behind Bobby and out the door. But I did glance back in time to see Crowley wink, knowing and teasing as he blew me a kiss and in turn I couldn't suppress a grin.

I practically ran down the stairs after that, only stopping in the kitchen long enough to grab a few cookies and a can of Coke before bolting out the door and onto the porch, giggling like mad when I heard the first string of curses roar through on the second floor. Stopping by the steps I had to sit down, laughing until tears formed in my eyes and my stomach cramped. Maybe part of it was the nerves of knowing I'd be on the receiving end soon enough, but mostly because of the comical situation. Of imagining Crowley standing there examining his nails as Bobby ripped him a new one. I knew I wasn't exactly in trouble, not really. It wasn't as if it were my fault Crowley popped up in my room. But I'd still get a scolding for not going to Bobby the second the demon appeared. As I sat munching on a cookie, washing it down with the Coke, I continued to simper, the afternoon bright, though cloudy now. So much for starting to forget about Crowley. If he kept on making surprise visits and teasing advances like that I'd definitely start losing my self control. And fast.

"Bastard," I snickered, taking another long sip from the can.

* * *

*Giggle giggle snort* I should not be enjoying this as much as I am xD Damn you Crowley...you pretentious peen, I love you.

GAH! I got another review and nearly died with excitement. AND I got more followers with a FILLER chapter. Well, maybe that wasn't the reason but it made me happy nonetheless. You guys are great for reading. Again, an eternal thanks.

-Sylleth


	8. Chapter 7

**Pain Is Ready, Pain Is Waiting**

"What in God's name were you thinking?" Bobby accused. I let out a groan, throwing my head back. It took a near three hours for Crowley to finally leave, not that I got to see him again before he did. What with Bobby's mood I decided my best bet was to stick around outside and away from the two while they discussed the hunt…or in all likelihood, while Bobby took any and all opportunity to curse Crowley. But when he did leave it was my turn to sit in the kitchen chair and hear every little thing that could have gone wrong.

"Bobby, stop making such a big deal of things. He aims to annoy, which is exactly what he clearly managed to do! I really don't think he's going to tie me to the bed and have his way with me while I'm here and you're in a room over. Besides, I have knees and I know where to aim." I tried to reason, doing all that I could to keep the smile from my face. But it was there, unintentional. And to be perfectly honest it was a bit amusing just how upset Bobby had gotten under some bad turns of events. I frightfully thought what his reaction would've been if he knew that I had actually kissed the demon. _Not to mention that you would, in fact, very much enjoy to be tied to the bed by him_, my subconscious mind quipped, making it that much harder to keep a straight face.

"That's not the point, Lotus! He's a goddamn demon."

"Oh, I haven't noticed." The look he shot me silenced my sarcasm in an instant. "I know he's a demon, I'm not blind. Or stupid, you know! If he would have so much as tried anything I would've stabbed him in the neck. You don't need to worry about me so much, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"He's Crowley." Bobby grumbled, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed as his eyes bore into me. Like he knew exactly what had happened that night when he was gone and he was waiting for me to spill. But the only way that would have been possible if the demonic bastard told him. And as much as I might have hated Crowley at times and distrusted him, I hoped that he at least would have kept his word about that. "He manipulates and twists things to work in his favor, you know that."

_Boy do I_. "Yes, Bobby…I know. Please stop worrying so much." I begged again. But by the huff he gave and how he pursed his lips I guessed I wasn't very convincing. Or he wasn't very convinced about the idea that Crowley had nothing in mind with me. Which…well, I wasn't convinced about that either but I had reasons for that at least. "You're making the face…stop it. You know I hate it." The faintest of smiles twitched at the corner of his lips and I knew I wasn't in any serious trouble.

Bobby opened his mouth to something else but at the moment a car rolled into the driveway and we both looked to the door. Normally unexpected visits weren't exactly pleasant. "Don't think this is over." Bobby warned, wagging a finger in my direction as I bolted from my seat, cackling with amusement.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! We can pick up during dinner…hey, it's Sam!" I called over my shoulder when I saw the car.

I missed seeing the Impala, there was no doubt about that. But since Dean was off living a relatively normal life it was only Sammy who came now and again. But even that was a bit odd. I knew that he went through Hell, quite literally actually, and through a high level of it being trapped in a cage with none other than Lucifer himself. But ever since he had made his way back here, however that happened, he seemed a lot more distant. But his visits were always welcome, so when I opened the door I burst into a wide smile, holding my arms out to my sides.

"Hey! Look who decided to show up! Without missing any bits, good for you." I greeted cheerfully.

Sam smiled as he closed the car door, accepting the hug when I got close enough. "Hi to you too." He said, letting go after a few seconds. "Hey, Bobby." I turned back in time to see him nod, unmistakable relief mixed with worry in his eyes at the looked at the younger Winchester. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Demon is being a prick, that's all." I told him with a laugh, walking back to the house alongside Sam. "What brings you here? Everything good on your part? No major catastrophe?"

"No, no, I was passing by. Decided to say hello." Sam replied with a scoff, clapping Bobby on the back as we walked past. "Heard you went on a hunt?" He asked Bobby.

I frowned and made a face at him, wondering what the big obsession was with Bobby's hunt. Furthermore, why Sam was showing up asking the same thing as Crowley. "Gee, Bobby, way to steal the spotlight."

"Well we can't all have demons leaving our bedrooms in the mornings." He shrugged nonchalantly.

I narrowed my eyes at him and gave a slow nod. "Touché."

"Uh…something I should know?" Sam inquired with a confused smile, lowering himself into one of the kitchen chairs as I went to get him a beer from the fridge.

"Nah, Crowley being Crowley, that's all." I answered before Bobby could, handing Sam the bottle. He thanked me and I gave a nod, letting out a sigh as I looked at the two hunters. "Well…go on. Do your thing, talk about your hunts while I go do womanly things and make sandwiches or something."

"And don't you forget your place." Bobby said with a huff. He burst into quiet laughter when I threw a towel at him.

For a good few hours they talked about the hunt, as well as a few other things. I did make sandwiches to eat, and added a few more beers to the mix. It was almost like old times, sitting around the cluttered kitchen table, talking about ghosts and adding jokes to make it seem somehow better. A bit more normal. Except that Dean was missing the party, and Sam didn't smile as easily anymore. I was happy for Dean, don't get me wrong. A normal life with a girl and a kid, in a boring suburban home with a typical boring job sounded appealing. To every hunter, no matter how much they denied it, it was appealing at some point or another. Though very few actually got a good enough opportunity to snatch the chance. But, no matter how truly happy I was for him, I missed him. The bantering and teasing.

"Alright guys," I said standing, stretching my muscles pleasantly. "As much fun as this is it's turning a bit too mundane for my taste. I'm gonna go for a walk." It wasn't really, but hearing them reminisce about the old days was starting to bring on an unfavorable effect on me, my eyes stinging now and again at certain mentions of memories. Pranks we used to play and movie nights we had.

"You alright, kid?" Bobby asked, slight frown on his face as he looked up at me. I nodded, collecting the empty bottles off the tabletop.

"Yeah, fine Bobby. Guys want anything else to eat, drink?" Sam shook his head. Bobby still looked unconvinced but he understood where I was coming from. "I'll just be out back."

"Alright. Don't do anything I wouldn't" Bobby sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm gonna take a walk in a junkyard, what do you think is gonna happen?" I chuckled, finding a pair of worn shoes to put on.

"Knowing you?" He drawled jokingly, making me laugh and make a show of rolling my eyes.

"You never let me do anything!" I replied in a high-pitched voice. Sam chuckled as Bobby smiled, happy to improve my mood. Which he normally did, and rather easily at that. It was difficult to keep a straight face when Bobby tried to crack jokes.

"Get out of here, idjit." He chuckled affectionately.

"Going, going. And you don't leave without saying goodbye." I warned Sam.

"Would I ever do that?" Sam asked with mocking hurt in his voice, eyes wide trying to look innocent.

"You did last time, you gigantic freak." I got out the door before he had a chance to retort.

It felt nice being outside, albeit slightly chilly. But it helped to clear my mind, breathing in the fresh air, calming my nerves. For a minute I stood on the porch, enjoying the moment of calm. Sam and Bobby were inside, Dean was off living a life. For however brief of a moment, things seemed to be alright. And after all that had happened with Lucifer, the apocalypse…it was almost surreal. Glancing back at the house for a second I smiled and made my way down the steps, turning to the junkyard.

I didn't wander around there overly much, not unless I needed to. But with the sun setting and being half drunk, driving wasn't much of an option. The junkyard was familiar, at least. And calming in its own strange way. It wasn't until I got toward the back that something changed. For instance, the air suddenly took on a sulfuric scent for a brief second and there was a stronger gust of wind than before. And even before I turned back I knew who it was that stood a few feet behind me.

"Oh boy…you're back." I drawled, looking at Crowley with a grin. Though he didn't seem as relaxed as he did in the morning, a scowl lining his face, deepening the wrinkles on his forehead. "What? What's wrong now? Are you still pissy about Bobby yelling at you?"

Crowley huffed, fixing the collar of his coat, wiping away flecks of lint from his shoulders. "His yelling did nothing more than give me a headache." He finally replied, voice gravelly with annoyance.

"Ah, trouble in paradise, then?" I asked instead, nodding my head so he'd follow. The more out of sight I was from the house the better. If Bobby were to see me talking to Crowley again there'd be a lot more explaining to do.

"Oh no…not at all. Those blubbering morons are doing a great job of screwing everything up." He grumbled, but took the hint and fell into step with me. Again I couldn't hold back a chuckle and felt his eyes on me.

"Stop glaring at me like that, it's not going to change anything." I told him, glancing back now and again as we maneuvered around the piles of broken down cars. "You still haven't told me why you're here."

"Was hoping you could make it all better." This time when I looked at him I saw his usual smirk was back in its place. His eyes, though still holding stress and annoyance, shone with a familiar mischievous spark and his back was once more straight. Demeanor as it should have been. "Angry sex is the best kind, you know…and yes, I am speaking from experience, love."

"There's the Crowley I know." I quipped, nudging him on the shoulder. He cocked an eyebrow at that but didn't comment, simply chuckled in response. "So…you don't come to talk just to talk, something happen that I should know about? Or you need some lore and are too afraid to ask Bobby?"

"I'm not afraid of Bobby," he huffed, tilting his chin up in defense. I held up my hands in an apology and refrained from laughing again. I knew exactly how Bobby could get and demon or not, it could get frightening. "Actually, I came for you."

"Huh?" I stopped in my footsteps. He made comments about coming for me, all laced with sexual innuendos. But this time his voice sounded sincere and truthful. "What in Gods name do you need me for?" I muttered, falling into step with him again after regaining my composure.

"Well, besides the obvious that you turned down a moment ago, you could say…a hunt." His words didn't ease my curiosity or confusion. Just spiked up a plethora of new questions. Crowley asking _me_ for help? On a hunt? After being constantly so interested in the odd cases, coming in the middle of the night asking questions about unusual monsters or what hurts them. What was happening? What was the demon up to? "Do wipe that expression from your face, darling, it's making you look like one of the demons I left in charge." Crowley muttered mockingly.

"I'm sorry…why-why are you interested in a hunt? And more importantly, why do you need _my_ help in it? Can't you ask one of your minions or something? If you haven't noticed yet I'm not exactly the hunter type. I can tell the difference between two ends of a gun, but I don't exactly do the; rush into a vampire den and try to decapitate them all. They might laugh themselves to death, but not many heads are actually gonna roll." I reasoned with him, stopping at the end of the lot, leaning against one of the broken down cars as I tried to process his request.

"Because they can't. I need someone who sleeps." My brow furrowed furthermore as I gawked at him. The more he talked, it seemed, the more confused I got.

"Okay…just…please explain before I think myself to death, huh?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck.

Crowley chuckled, the sound sardonic and filled with amusement. "I need you as bait." Well, that definitely cleared up a few of my questions. And eased my nerves about him possibly thinking that I'd go slash and hack for his benefit. Then again, I wasn't exactly ready to go sit in a trap until something potentially bloody and without doubt deadly was coming for me. Or, what was an even worse idea, someone innocent. "It's an unpleasant sort of beasty, if you will, and I need you asleep so he'd come after you."

My eyebrows rose up in confusion, arms crossing over my chest. "You realize I'm making a list of sarcastic retorts telling you to go stick it up your rear, right?"

He only smirked, light dancing in his eyes. "Do tell, you might give me a few new ideas." He retorted, causing me to scoff, though I still couldn't quite believe it. He wasn't the sort to ask for help, ever if it was to use someone as bait for that matter. "Thing is, it's a Mare. Heard of it, perhaps?"

I took a few moments to think, searching through my lists of monsters and the kind that I had ever come across in books. "Mare…Mare…the uh…the nightmare thing?"

"Yes…the nightmare thing." Crowley drawled. "That's why I need you. Demons can't sleep, darling."

Mare's were…a sort of family to Shtriga's in my opinion. In old folklore they'd come when you slept, sat on your chest and caused nightmares. Except there wasn't much written about them in the books, and they never posed as a problem. In fact, I couldn't remember anyone ever actually finding a case. "But they cause nightmares…sleep paralysis...that's it. They don't kill. Besides, I thought they were more of a wives-tale than anything."

He sighed heavily, moving to lean on the car beside me. "You've met Lucifer…don't you think it's time to throw the ol' skepticism out the window?" I heard the strain in his voice as he tried to remain calm and realized that with him already being grumpy I might need to be a bit more careful in what I said.

"Well…explain to me, please."

"They're not folklore, and are in fact very real. Pesky things, really. There's very few left and one is currently in a small town in Georgia. They cause nightmares until the person goes mad with fright and then they suffocate them." He e explained, making me cringe slightly. That was probably one of the worst ways to go. Trapped in your own mind, in the worst possible scenario that your mind could develop. It was short of being called Hell. "And as it may be, they're attracted to people with traumatic pasts. Makes for causing nightmares easier."

"I don't have a traumatic past." I said defensively. Crowley looked at me with raised eyebrows, like questioning my beliefs. "What…I don't…it's a bit colorful, that's all. Okay, whatever, why are you coming to me? Why not wait for someone in the town to get attacked or…go to someone else?"

"Because if you haven't noticed, I don't make a lot of friends who have the potential to stick their knife in my back. And I need to catch the thing, not kill it, and before you ask no I'm not telling you why."

"Okay," I scoffed, shaking my head. "I'm not going to help you, you know that right? Bobby's already angry with me and quite frankly; I don't trust you. And as fun as it sounds to get my mind torn apart by fear; I'll have to pass." Despite my reasoning, Crowley continued to smirk. Staring at me like he knew something I didn't and I couldn't say that it made me feel very comfortable. In fact, I was starting to grow very fidgety. The idea of going on this "hunt" was unsettling enough, but to think that he was now capturing monsters was even worse. It simply meant that he really was up to something.

"Actually, yes…you are." He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you come back here sane and in one piece. I just need you to sleep, is that too much to ask for? I'll have you back here before the night is even through. Bobby won't know you've been gone."

My eyes narrowed at him, his supposedly comforting words of encouragement doing nothing to help. "Uh…why are you so sure that I'll help you?" I dared to ask.

"Ah, well you see I took the liberty of taking a few pictures that night. Sorry, darling, I couldn't resist. You simply looked so adorable." As he spoke Crowley pulled out his phone, clicking a button to bring the backlight to life. And my jaw went slack seeing that his background of choice was me and him. Apparently, when I fell asleep on the sofa, my head lolled to the side and onto his shoulder. And though I looked peaceful enough, Crowley was smiling wickedly at the camera, his head even leaning a bit against mine. "Wouldn't want Bobby to see that now would we?"

"What…that…that's so creepy! Gimme that!" I lunged for his phone but he was quick to pull back, slipping it back into his coat pocket. My heart beat frantically in my chest, mouth dry and mind reeling madly. Explaining to Bobby why Crowley left my bedroom in the morning was one thing, but him actually seeing a picture? And as innocent as it may have been I'd _definitely _get locked up until the next coming. "Oh, you are so unfair." I huffed, narrowing my eyes at him.

Crowley grinned smugly, triumphantly, patting his pocket where the mobile resided. Great…now he had evidence and he was blackmailing me. Even if it wasn't an entirely horrible, let's-walk-to-hell plan, it was still bad. And health-hazardous. "That's my job." He said in a low and dangerous tone, throwing his arm around my shoulders despite me trying to move away. "Come on, darling. It'll be fun! And I promise-"

"To destroy the picture after I help you?" I tried hopefully, finally slipping out from under his arm. My skin tingling pleasantly from the contact, stomach twisting into knots.

"No, no. Don't be silly! I like it far too much to do something like that." Another deep chuckle rolled from in his throat, causing me to make a face. This was turning out to be so dreadfully bad. "Now, I'll come get you tonight at say…an hour till midnight. We'll go on over to Georgia, you'll sleep for a few hours, I'll get what I need and have you back for breakfast. How does that sound?" His lips stretched into a smile as he leaned closer to me, acting as though this was nothing more than a game.

I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking. It wasn't as though I'd let him take someone innocent, they'd have much smaller of a chance of survival. And though Crowley could've been bluffing I somehow didn't want to risk Bobby ever seeing that picture. Call me a chicken but I'd rather face crippling nightmares than the wrath of Bobby. "It's not like I have a choice." I grumbled.

"Fantastic." Crowley beamed, clapping his hands together. "And don't worry…your help will not go unrewarded." His voice has dropped and octave as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. Despite wanting to shiver in delight of the damningly wonderful feeling of having his lips against my skin, I sulked, glaring at him from the corner of my eye.

"Oh…go to Heaven." I grumbled, making a face at him. It only caused Crowley to laugh as he stepped back, fixing his coat as though it were a reflex of some sort.

"I'll see you in a few hours. Oh and try not to have Bobby up at that hour. It'd be bad for both of us if he were to walk in and see me in your bedroom twice in one day. And not doing anything fun, that's just setting a bad reputation for me." He disappeared before I could say anything, which in all likelihood would've been the start of an exorcism.

I sank back onto the hood of the beaten down car, cradling my head. When did these things start spiraling out of control? And why did I have to be so _stupid_? It was Crowley! I knew it was Crowley and I kissed him and got drunk with him, as if he never would've taken advantage of that. And now I was going to help him catch a-a Mara. Why was he needing to catch it? What was happening in the underside of the supernatural world? We just barely got Lucifer locked up again, and now another apocalypse was stirring? I didn't even want to begin thinking of the possibilities. And the worst part was that now I was assisting in it because I was too stupid to be able to control my raging hormones.

"Lotus!" bobby's voice rang out from the distance, calling me back to the house. Must've meant that Sam was leaving. As I pushed back from the car I checked my watch for the time. A heavy sigh left my lips, my shoulders slumping.

Four hours until I got to go get the shit beaten out of me by my nightmares.

* * *

Let the hunts begin! I flipped a coin to decide whether the hunt was gonna turn to the smut side or the dark side...alas, I'm sad to say, it shall get to be a bit ah...dark. But I swear I'll make up for it. And on the bright side; I have a smut-hunt on reserve :D

Yes, I shall thank people for reading this and following this and adding it to their favorites and the reviews in every chapter. Sue me, I love you guys :3

-Sylleth


	9. Chapter 8

**Go On And Scare Me To Death**

Bobby didn't go to sleep at eleven. But luckily enough, I managed to slip off to my own room without suspicion. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't a grade A liar either. Throughout the remainder of the day Bobby asked me what was wrong. He was worried, said I looked like something was really bothering me. No, of course not. What could go wrong when working with Crowley? Apart from well…everything. This was all going so bad. Not to mention that my plan to rid of Crowley was dancing around in fire after being doused in gasoline. If he kept this up I'd never get him out of my head, especially with what my feelings were doing. I sneered at the thought. Feelings…those weren't feelings. Those were really pesky hormones. But wasn't that even worse?

I sank onto my bed, rubbing my temples. This was oh so bad. Liking a bad boy, that was one thing. Every girl went through that phase, I think. Having something you can't have. It was exciting. But this was…a demon. The same kind of being that killed Bobby's wife, screwed up the Winchesters' lives, forced my own parents into the lifestyle of hunting and were downright dicks all around. And above all, he was in charge of Hell, now. Liking a bad boy was one thing…but liking Crowley was in an entirely different galaxy of things. And I knew it wasn't going to go away. Not anytime soon, and definitely not with what he was doing. Winding me so easily around his finger. I touched my cheek where he had kissed me earlier today. Yes…he knew exactly what he was doing and he didn't care. And I wasn't complaining.

Glancing at my bedside table I saw the note. Still folded neatly, my name written in black curly letters. If I couldn't even bring myself to throw that out, how was I supposed to get him out of my mind? _Well, it isn't as if you actually want to_, I told myself. And I was right. I didn't want to get him out of my mind. Despite me hating the fact that it was him I was taking such a liking to, I _liked_ liking him. I _liked_ his comments, and advances, and winks. Who wouldn't? He was a Hell of a guy to get attention from. Especially when it was the sort where he wasn't personally seeing to your tortures.

"Ready?" I jumped slightly, turning back to look at Crowley who now stood a few feet away. Though his coat was abandoned he still wore the fine tailored suit, clean, as it always seemed to be. I only ever saw it torn up when he was on the run from Lucifer.

"Shh…" I hushed, standing up, frowning disapprovingly. Part of me had hoped that maybe he found another way to do the job. But, like promised, he had come at exactly eleven o'clock. "Bobby's still awake." I murmured, walking up to him, arms crossed.

"Well, better not dawdle around." With a smirk he grabbed me around the waist, which was most certainly not necessary for transportation. And furthermore, he had to tug me against him, his other hand in his pocket as if this was a normal stance for us. I glared at him, which was turning out to be a regular response to just about everything that he did. But, alas, my body was having an entirely different reaction. Goosebumps running down my spine, back ever so slightly curving against him. This, apart from every moral hiccup, was in fact a very comfortable place to be. And being that close to Crowley simply spread a warm feeling from the roots of my hair to my tips of my toes.

I blinked and we were no longer in my bedroom but instead in a rather lavished hotel room. Nothing too fancy, but in all likelihood the best that money could buy in whatever town of Georgia that we were currently in. I took a moment to regain my grounding, not used to the way demons travelled. Even angels, for that matter. It was odd to find yourself in a completely different setting in the blink of an eye. "Next time we're taking the car." I muttered, wanting to step back. But Crowley kept his arm securely around my waist. Still smirking as he glanced about and nodded to the bed.

"Yes, well, time is a factor, dearie. And we don't have much of it." Adding a wink for good measure he walked me to the bed, only stepping back when my leg brushed the edge of the mattress. "Now…you don't look like you're dressed for sleep." His brow furrowed, eyes flashing mischievously.

"What, you think the Mare is going to care what I'm wearing?" I scoffed, side still warm from where he had his arm, where his fingers had pressed into the skin beneath the shirt.

"No…but I do." He lifted his hand and snapped his finger, smirk reaching his eyes that were now travelling the length of my body.

"Oh…oh this is low…" I hissed, staring down at myself with a scowl. He had changed the comfort of my jeans and tee into an overly cliché nightgown. Barely reaching mid-thigh, the front revealing, straps barely half an inch, material silky and black. Not to mention that my bra was gone and…"Am I wearing lacy underwear?" I said in a small voice, a new-found horror crossing my face.

Crowley chortled, tongue running along his lips as he slowly drew his eyes up to mine. "Would you like me to check?" a small and gurgling whine left the back of my throat which only seemed to amuse Crowley further. It was definitely uncomfortable. The nightgown, if you could call it that, was one thing. But feeling your _panties_ change was taking it to a whole new level. Not that I should've been surprised, this was Crowley after all. But I did feel like someone was being overly invasive with me. Which he was, in all technicality.

"You so owe me for this." I finally managed. Crowley pushed me gently onto the bed and as quickly as I could, without letting anything…_pop out_, I got under the covers, making a show of turning my back to him. Except that the demon wouldn't have any of that and again, like in the morning, I found myself on my back, staring up at Crowley who was leaning down awfully close to me.

"You know…after all this is over we should stick around for a little while." He murmured, brushing back my hair, twining a strand around his finger as he chuckled at my reaction. My mouth gaped slightly as I stared up, breathing hitched. This was no good…no good at all. Again my heart jumped in my throat, beating like trying to make a run for it. "I'd very much like to get my tongue under that lace." Another shiver ran through my body at the image that ran through my mind.

I gulped, searching my mind for words. "Can we just get this over and done with?" My voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper, though luckily steady.

"All work and no play, hmm?" Crowley mused, leaning further down until his face was blurry, breath warm against my skin. "Have it your way, then." As he finished the word he pressed his lips to mine.

I let out another whine, quiet in surprise at the unneeded kiss. But it was…welcome. And suddenly my mind was clouding, eyes closing, muscles relaxing completely into the soft mattress. So inviting. For the briefest of moments I felt Crowley's teeth nip at my lip, tongue running over the spot before he pulled away, kissing his way down my cheek and to my ear. I felt drugged, like part of me was floating someplace else. That odd state between being asleep and awake. So even when he nipped at my earlobe all I could do was sigh in response. "Sweet nightmares, darling…I'll see you when you wake." He murmured before the darkness rolled completely over my mind.

_The mood wasn't dark when I opened my eyes. There were no weird intestines hanging from the walls or eerie music playing the background as the ceiling dripped water from an asbestos infected ceiling. In fact, it was light. The room vaguely familiar, and I realized soon why. I was home. Well, one of my homes. In the sitting room. But it was…quiet. No clatter from the kitchen, no bickering of my parents. I moved around the rooms slowly, grinning at the memories they brought. Why was I here? There was a sudden knock on the door. Rapid and unyielding. _

"_I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted, quickening my step as I neared the door. And as I flung it open I was met by an out of breath and very frantic looking Darrell. He was a good friend from school, wasn't he? Why did he look so scared? "What's wrong?" I asked slowly. _

"_It's…it's your parents." He panted, grabbing me by the wrist. "Come on!" then he yanked on my arm and I was running along his side. My legs pumping fast, as fast as they could carry me. I pulled out in front of him when I saw the scene in the distance. A car flipped over on its back, ambulances and police surrounding the wreckage. Group of people standing around, most having their heads turned away. And when they saw me approach I saw their eyes. Saw the sorrow, the guilt in them. Looking away from the scene as though searching for something wholesome. Something that could still give them hope. _

"_Move, move!" I shouted angrily, shoving past the people. Police made an attempt to hold me back but I wasn't stopping. "MOVE!" _

_I wish they would've held me back. _

_The bodies weren't right. They were crooked, angled all wrong. Bone fragments protruding from broken skin, smeared and stained with crimson. There was so much blood, on the street, on the bodies, the car. The mangled turned over car._ _Someone was screaming…I was screaming. I kept fighting to get to them but I couldn't move. My feet were leaded, eyes wide. Unable to look away…why wasn't I looking away? I screamed louder. I wanted my lungs to burst, to fill with blood, to drown. I didn't want to look…how much longer could I look? The figures began to move. Gurgled moans leaving their cut lips, bones grinding as they turned to look at me. Black soulless eyes, their mouths opening and closing, teeth chipped, some missing. And I couldn't look away. _

_No…no this wasn't right. _

_I never saw my parents die…I wasn't there…I was never there._

_The scene shifted and suddenly I was back in my room. Gasping for air, my throat feeling hoarse, clawing at any skin I could find so I'd inflict enough pain to wake up…I had to wake up. No…no I had to sleep. There was a reason I had to sleep. When I finally stopped panting for air, my hands growing slack, I looked around my new surroundings. My room…which room? This wasn't Bobby's…this wasn't my room. It couldn't have been. The sheets on the bed were gray, worn out without the familiar pattern, the mattress not as soft as I remembered it being. Two other beds stood along the walls. What was this place? Was it the orphanage? But I wasn't in the orphanage. I went to Bobby's after my parents died. I was never here. The door slammed shut suddenly. This wasn't right. I bolted from the bed, throwing my shoulder against the wooden door but it didn't budge. So I tried again, I pounded as hard as I could with my fists and feet but no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't budge. _

_Suddenly I felt a chill. It formed around me, seeping through my clothing, into my skin and bones. Into my very soul, it was burning. The cold was so bad it seemed to burn and I began to shiver, something else coming over the place. Dark…frightening. This wasn't right. I had to get out of here. All I knew was that I had to get out of here. So again I started to pick up on trying to knock the door open. Again it was a futile attempt. And when I turned back I screamed. The walls…the walls were leaking blood. And I could suddenly smell it, it was all around me. When I moved I slipped, fell forward and barely caught myself with my hands. Except that I caught a reflection of myself in something wet. The substance warm, sticky. It was filling up the room. The blood was filling up the room!_

_I'd drown in it. As the thought dawned on me I scrambled to get up. Needed a way out…there had to be a way out. But as I breathed in the blood seemed to stick to the back of my throat, on my tongue. It made me gag, retch with disgust. Why was there so much blood? I moved along the walls, trying to look for something. Anything. The window, perhaps? It was barred. And no matter how hard I pulled the bars didn't budge. The blood was rising, it was up past my ankles now. I had to do something…I had to do something! And then another noise caught my ears. Gurgling…it wasn't mine but it was gurgling…behind me. _

_I didn't want to turn back. I was afraid…I couldn't breathe, it was sickening and I didn't want to hear. But I needed to…I had to make sure it was there. But why? Why did I have to turn? I did, though. I turned, and my eyes widened. Another shriek left my lips before I choked on a sob. My knees buckled and yet I couldn't look away from the sight. I fell into the blood…_their_ blood. _

_They were nailed to the wall. Arms spread wide…there was Bobby, and my mom…and my dad. And they were nailed to the fucking wall. Their arms slashed, their throats slit. There were cuts on their stomach. Massive slashes as though someone had torn them to ribbons. So much so that even the intestines that hung out were torn and shredded. I could see their organs…goddamn it I could see their organs! And the blood, it was pooling from their wounds, their throats, their arms. But they were alive. They were still alive. I saw their lips move, their eyes pleading. I could see their lungs expanding beneath the broken rib cage. I could see their hearts pump. And I saw their lips move. _

Help…help us…

_Their voices were in my head. They were in my head so I screamed again. Covered my ears and pleaded it all to stop. But the blood was rising, and I was sitting in it, back pressed against the wall and unable to look away. The voices grew louder, climbing over each other, rising in volume, screaming and murmuring and pleading. I sobbed until I lost my voice. Until I began to hiccup on my own tears, until I could no longer breathe because all I could taste was blood. It felt like it was filling my lungs. _

"Please, make it stop_. _Make it stop, just make it stop. Kill me and make it stop, I beg of you MAKE IT STOP!"

And it did.

I scrambled, screamed and fought against the hands trying to restrain me. I screamed until my voice felt hoarse and pushed away. Eyes open I looked around. I could still smell it, feel it…I could still _taste_ it. And for a moment I could've sworn I still saw it dripping down the walls. So I closed my eyes but that was worse. Because behind my eyelids I saw the bodies. Behind my eyelids I saw _them_ pleading for help. And I choked on another sob, eyes open again. There was something we on my face…it was warm and it was wet! It was the blood…it was the blood…

Suddenly everything stopped.

My head was turned and I was staring at the side of the room. Shaking madly, sweat covering my skin, damping my hair, making it stick to the back of my neck. Tears continued to stream down my cheeks and…one side of my face stung. It stung like someone had slapped me, and hard.

"Lotus, darling, you're awake." The voice…gravelly and low. I turned my head, eyes finally landing on the figure who had tried to restrain me. His suit jacket missing a button, part of the collar of his shirt upturned and tie crooked. I had been fighting him, hadn't I? I stared at him and continued to quake.

Crowley…I was on a job with Crowley. The Mare. That's why I was asleep. That's why I couldn't breathe. That's why my mind felt like it was raw and torn to near shreds. None of it was real…and yet I could still smell the faint scent of blood. And he pulled me in. The demon whose fault this was suddenly pulled me into his arms. Crushed me against his chest and rubbed my back. And I couldn't find it in me to fight back. To hit him back, punch and claw at him until he felt the same pain I just had to endure.

"Did you get it?" I managed instead, voice rough from misuse. Choppy and quiet as I fought back cries.

"Mh-hmm…one nasty Mare being transported as we speak." He murmured. And though his actions were comforting, his voice wasn't. It still held the cold, the distance only demons could accomplish. Because he didn't care…not really. But having me in his arms like he did was better than having me sob, so he'd endure it. Because it benefited him.

I didn't wrap my arms around him. I didn't even lean against him that much. But I did turn my head, just a little, to bury my nose in the collar of his shirt. And I breathed in. My stomach settled almost instantaneously, like I had just gulped in a breath of fresh air. I smelt amber and oak…and well aged scotch, the kind that he liked to drink. I could smell black tea, and tobacco…and perhaps that was all in my head. But I didn't care. Not one bit because it wasn't blood. And though I continued to shake, though my heart felt as though it'd beat up through my throat and slip off my tongue and I was ready to vomit from the images I had seen and felt an indescribable fear that I knew nothing could take away; I realized that it was a nightmare.

It had all been just a nightmare.

I never saw my parents die. I never went to an orphanage. And Bobby was alive, probably asleep on the sofa in his study because he didn't feel like walking up to his bedroom. It had been nothing more than a nightmare. Upon realizing that I pushed away, wiping frantically at my face. No one saw me cry. Not when I broke my leg or cracked ribs or even when I stood at the funeral. I simply didn't cry, it never solved anything so what was the need to make a scene? And now Crowley had. He saw me cry, and sob, and scream. I lashed out at him and he slapped me and then hugged me. Another wave of nausea hit me and a retched.

"Bathroom..." I managed. Crowley nodded to a door and I sprang from the bed, running, nearly tripping to the toilet. The next few minutes I spent throwing up, my throat burning and eyes watering. And in the nasty process, when I couldn't breathe, I was reminded of the suffocation I felt in the nightmare. The panic that came with it didn't help. When I flushed I found a glass being held out for me, filled with water for me to rinse my mouth with. I didn't thank Crowley as I took it, I didn't even look at him for that matter. And when I stood he helped me remain steady. A snap of his fingers and I was back in my old clothes. It brought little comfort, but little was better than none.

"I didn't mean for it to get so far." Crowley explained, his voice still low as though he was trying to comfort a frightened animal. "Nor did I mean to hit you. That was rude of me." I think he would've chuckled if I would've showed signs of acknowledgment to his talking. But how could I? He wasn't even apologizing. He didn't even bother faking a goddamn "sorry" for what had happened.

"Take me back," I asked meekly. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be in a room with a man I couldn't even look in the eyes…no, not a man. He was a demon. A demon who I had giggled about, kissed, gotten drunk with and bantered with. I didn't want to be near him…not tonight. Not now.

"Of course love," he replied, and took me around the waist. But he didn't pull me close to him, this time. He didn't make a sexual innuendo. I don't even think he was smirking. Another snap of his fingers and I was back in my room. _My _room. Things as I had left them. "Thank you for your help." Crowley said, and I felt the press of his lips against the cheek he had earlier hit. The kiss soft and tender, lingering for a moment too long. "I'll see you around." He was gone within the second, leaving me shaking again.

Painstakingly alone and partially stuck in that nightmare.

* * *

...

I'm sorry...I am...didn't mean for it to get that dark. Who am I kidding? Yes I did. But-but it started off pretty good, didn't it? Okay...I'm gonna go think of a way to make up for this chapter.

Still love you all for reading this...you guys don't even know how much.

-Sylleth


	10. Chapter 9

**And I Don't Wanna See What I've Seen**

I didn't go back to sleep that night. For obvious reason, I normally didn't sleep again after a regular nightmare. But that? Instead I took my time in my room, waiting until my quiet sobs stopped and I could leave. Check on Bobby…I knew it was a nightmare but I had check. He had, as predicted, fallen asleep in the sitting room. Mouth open, familiar snores not letting the silence settle. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath and for a while I stood watching. It was creepy. I knew it was, but it helped me calm down. And when I was sure that I wasn't about to break down again, I moved to cover him with a blanket and place his hat, which had fallen to the floor, on the coffee table. From the kitchen I grabbed a bottle of whiskey, most of it gone already, and headed upstairs for a shower. A long and extremely needed shower.

It was when I glanced in the mirror, clothing discarded in the hamper, that I realized it really had been a monster…a being. Across my chest, my stomach, there were bruises. Almost black, in the shapes of three-toed feet, elongated, curving around my sides. One at the top of my chest, much too close to my throat. When I touched one, I felt the pain. But in my still dazed state it hardly phased me. I couldn't remember the last time I was so scared…it was unnatural. Deep rooted, right into my bones. I felt, even though I was awake, like I was still stuck in that room. Like there was nothing but darkness that still weighed down on my shoulders, nothing but fear that would never go away.

I hated nightmares.

In the shower I finished off most of the whiskey, and slowly, excruciatingly so, I relaxed. Just a little. My muscles unclenched, the fear even receded a little. I stayed under the water until it grew cold, only then deciding that it was time to get out. And only then did I decide to check the time, finding that it was almost seven. That was good. The sun would be up soon, and I could start on breakfast. My stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought. Alright…breakfast for Bobby.

Wrapping a towel around myself I shuffled back to my room to get dressed. Hiding the bruises would be easy. It was getting chilly these days, so long sleeved shirts and hoodies were expected. But it was the rest of me I knew I couldn't hide. I saw that my face was pale, I saw that my eyes were frantic. In the reflection in the bathroom mirror; I looked like I had seen a ghost. Pardon me for the choice of words, but it was the best description I could provide…maybe not a ghost. A bloody, awful, twisted, tormented screaming ghost. Bobby would be quick to catch that, and thus questions would follow. And again I'd be forced to lie about how it was just a bad dream. I suppose it wouldn't be a total lie, at least. It was a nightmare I had…induced by a Mare while helping Crowley. I'd just leave that part out.

When I finished dressing and walked to the nightstand to turn off the light, I froze in my steps. Staring at the bottle left beside Crowley's old note. It was Craig…unopened and had a red bow tied around the neck of the bottle. When had he left that here? Was this his way of an apology? A bottle of Craig? Did he honestly think that seeing it I'd suddenly forget all about him blackmailing me? Part of me grew outraged. So much so that my fingers twitched to grab it and throw it against the wall. Instead I clicked the light off and walked out of the room. What was I expecting? This was Crowley…and Crowley didn't apologize.

A good month passed before things began to go back to normal for me. The first few weeks were rough to say the least. Bobby noticed my change immediately, asked what nightmare I had. And truth be told, I was too afraid to tell him. Because somehow giving voice to it would've made it feel a bit more real. And though I didn't actually have the nightmare again, I caught tidbits of it. When I slept, that is. In two weeks I didn't sleep more than ten hours. Nodding off now and again when my brain simply refused to work. Which was the cause of me getting fired about halfway through the month. Sleep deprivation and crappy, rude customers didn't exactly bode well with me.

Slowly but surely, though, I began to deal with it. The nightmare didn't seem so bad, anymore, becoming more and more like a veiled over dream. I even opened the bottle that Crowley had left for me. I didn't forgive him per se, but I also didn't blame him anymore. Though it _was _his fault that things had escalated due to him needing to make sure to get the Mere, or maybe get his rocks off watching me trash around I bed, I couldn't blame him. He was a demon, after all. And yes, he blackmailed me. But there were worse hunters out there. He did bring me back, after all, and if I tried really hard I could almost make out an apology in the bottle of Craig he had left.

Still, every night I had to force myself to go to bed. To turn off the light and close my eyes because though I dreamt of that room less and less, it was still in the back of my mind. I never would have thought that a bad nightmare would have had such an awful effect. Not that it should have surprised me. But it made me feel…weak. Being surrounded by Sam and Dean and Bobby, by people who had suffered so much through life and still lived on and managed to smile and joke…how could I ever live up to that? A nightmare had rendered me basically immobile. I did my best, for Bobby's sake, to go on through my days like normal. Still, I felt _pathetic_ for my reaction. No matter how much I tried to rationalize it.

It was turning dark again. I glanced out the window at the setting sun and sighed heavily, frowning. First snow fell the night before, covering the ground with a thin sheet of white, erasing blemishes from the land. I loved winter…except for now. Because that meant it'd get dark sooner, as it was now. Six in the afternoon and already I had the lights on. Which meant that my demons would come out to play from the shadows and though it truly was easier to keep them at bay I didn't always manage. I replaced the cap on the bottle of Craig and turned to go downstairs and start on dinner when Crowley appeared.

"What the…oh god." I huffed, legs nearly buckling under me from his weight. His suit was torn, face bloody and beaded with sweat. And he appeared staggering, slumping against me as I struggled to catch him and help him stand again. Crowley panted, feeting unstable as he swayed and glared at me like this was all somehow my fault. I doubted he was actually angry at me, but he needed to get his rage out on someone apparently.

"Thank you," He grumbled, cradling his side, blood dripping onto my floor as I led him to my bed, letting him slump onto the mattress. That's when I noticed the slight smoke rising from his back and glanced behind. My eyes widened seeing that a good portion of his suit was torn off and the skin was cut up and blistering from what I assumed was holy water.

"What the hell happened to you?" I hissed, not quite believing the sight. Crowley looked like he had gone through all seven levels of hell. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his lip was cut, cheek bruised, and he was seeping blood. A lot of blood. That's when I began to breathe heavier. The smell hitting my nose. I was never afraid of blood before. It didn't bother me, I didn't like it but it never bothered me. Now, as I stood staring, I felt my body grown cold. And suddenly flush with nauseating heat, head swimming madly as I begun to sway.

"Lotus," I heard Crowley's voice cut through. I closed my eyes and stumbled back until my back hit the wall. Sliding down I put my head between my knees and forced myself to breathe slow and deep. "Don't tell me you're going to faint." He groused, voice rough and misused. If I would've had it in me I would've added to his cuts. But my primary concern was staying conscious.

"Bobby's home…get out." I managed, dizziness slowly subsiding. And I was just beginning to think that the nightmare was behind me.

"If you haven't noticed I'm here for a reason." He muttered sourly. In other words he needed help and I was the only one he knew that would do it. Except that I didn't want to help him. I wanted him out of here, I wanted him to leave and take my nightmares with him so I could breathe normally again and be able to help people and look at blood without remembering how I was drowning in it.

"I don't care…out…I want you out." I repeated, keeping my eyes closed, heart finally slowing, though I still felt nauseous. But even as I said it I knew I'd be the one patching him up. "What happened?"

"Rough night with a hooker." I glanced up at his comment, surprised not to see he wasn't smirking. But at least he was still sarcastic, so I suppose I wouldn't be working with a critical life threatening decision. Come to think of it, why not simply change vessels? Not that I minded seeing him looking like…well, him. "Will you _help_ me?" The way he said "help" would've made me laugh if I wasn't in the midst of an anxiety attack. Like he was spitting out something utterly bitter and revolting.

Slowly I pushed myself up the wall, eyes on his rather than the blood. "Hold on…" I finally muttered, leaving the room quickly, shutting the door behind me as I went. I walked slowly, bidding my time to regain my composure and catch my breath, pinching my cheeks to bring color back to them. "Hey Bobby?" I called as I walked down the stairs, finding him half napping on the sofa with the television droning the news.

"Hmm?" He hummed, jerking slightly and letting out a long and rather loud yawn. "Sorry," he apologized when his mouth finally closed.

"Can I ask you for a _huge_ favor?" I asked, smiling as sweetly as I could, ignoring the creeping guilt I felt for lying to him.

Bobby arched an eyebrow, smiling kindly at me. "What do you need?" he sighed, attempting to sound exasperated.

"Take out." I grinned, giving him my most pleading look. "Please…I really want Chinese and I had something to drink so I can't drive." At least that much was true.

"Now?" Bobby groaned, but I saw the grin. "Using that look isn't fair, you know."

"Will you then?"

"Yes," he sighed, running his hands over his face, chuckling. "Some woman you are…can't even cook dinner."

"Yes, this woman also knows where to buy laxatives and how to make cookies." I threatened playfully.

Bobby made a face at me, standing up and yawning again. I followed him to the door, hiding my shame for forcing him out of the house so I could take care of a demon. "What will you want?" He asked, thanking me when I handed him his jacket.

"Seafood delight, like usual, and Rangoon." I told him, knowing that food was the last thing on my mind. Knowing that when he got back I'd have to force it down my throat and smile and talk to him. I only hoped that by then Crowley would be gone. "Drive safe, okay? It could be slippery out there." I warned as he grabbed the keys to his truck.

"Always am."

"Have you wallet?"

"Uh…somewhere…there it is. Want anything else while I'm out?"

"Nah, should be good. Maybe some more beer? I think we're down to a few bottles." I stood on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you,"

He hummed, smile twitching on his lips. He smiled because I was seeing him out the door, and I'd be here to welcome him home and I was innocent and sweet. It made me that much more nauseous, knowing he'd be furious if he ever knew that instead of taking the opportunity of capturing Crowley as I should have done, especially with his current state, I was going to tend to his wounds. That this asking for Chinese was all to get him out of the house for an hour or two. "Don't mention it, kid. I'll be back in a little while. Call if you need something else."

"Will do." Forcing a smile I closed the door after him and slowly returned to my room. Feet feeling heavy as I neared my door, afraid of what I might find on the other side. Afraid that I'd get trapped in it like in the nightmare and drown in Crowley's blood. No matter how irrational that fear was and no matter that I knew it was irrational; it wouldn't go away.

"Thank you for hurrying," Crowley said sarcastically when I opened the door. He hadn't moved from his position on my bed, though was looking paler than before.

"Shut up," I muttered, going to help him stand. "Come on, we're going to the bathroom." I told him. He grunted and groaned as I forced him up, regretfully taking my help of support, moving slowly as I walked him to the bathroom. In such a state I could've had him bound. The King of Hell, captured. "I thought demons could heal themselves." I muttered, flicking on the light.

"I decided to change things up a bit." Crowley retorted, letting out a heavy sigh when he sat down again on the edge of the tub. I moved in front of him, carefully removing his tie, dropping it behind me.

"I'm gonna need to get that jacket off…and shirt." I told him.

"Now, now, darling, I know you want me but do you think now is the time?" he even managed a smirk as I helped him slip out of the jacket.

"Seeing you in pain turns me on…what can I say; I'm kinky." I retorted, carefully peeling the jacket off from his back. Crowley tensed, trying to stifle a groan. I did my best to push back another anxiety attack that seemed content on lingering at the edges of my nerves, waiting for a moment to slip through and have me panic again.

"Are you now?" He straightened his back a bit and winced, eyes following my movements while I undid the buttons of his shirt. "We'll have to test that sometime, hmm?"

"Do you ever stop with the suggestions?" I drawled, gently peeling the shirt from his torso. It was stuck in a few places, the blood making it cling, wounds having clotted around the fabric. As I did they reopened and fresh blood flowed again, making it hard to tell where the actual cuts were. There was a deep gash on his side, a few bruises and lacerations that were smaller, looking to be more uncomfortable than actually life threatening.

"Of course not…like what you see?" I drew my eyes to his, gave a sigh and started the water so it'd warm up.

"If I ask what you were doing to get like this are you going to be sarcastic?" I asked, rolling up my jeans to my knees and pulling my hoodie off so the sleeves wouldn't get wet, stepping into the tub behind him.

"I can be rude if you'd like." He offered, glancing over his shoulder to see what I was doing. Switching the water to the shower head I pulled on the hose, checking to make sure it was warm but not scalding.

"Here," grabbing a towel with my free hand I gave Crowley one of the edges to hold, wrapped it around his waist and handing him the other end. "Hold that. Else the water is gonna run down behind your pants and as hilarious as it'd be seeing you walk around with a wet ass I don't want you taking off any more clothes."

"Liar…you want me in my naked goodness." He quipped, and I couldn't help but smile. Maybe I did…but I was still mad at him about the Mare incident. And even if I wasn't, it wasn't something I was about to let him know.

"This is going to hurt," I warned, then angled the water to his back. Crowley yelped, jerking, but remained seated as I washed what holy water still clung to his skin.

"Bloody hell," I heard him hiss, letting the water run down the burns, taking the time to inspect the tattoos that covered both of his shoulders, colorful dragons one which twisted around to his shoulder blade.

"So…the tattoos your idea or…?" I muttered, noticing how ever so slowly he began to relax. As gently as I could I rubbed away dried blood from his sides and back, then, switched the water off when I was done and had washed his entire back.

"Do I look like I'd get bloody dragons tattooed on my arms?" He grumbled, leaning forward when I took another towel from the rack and began to pat him dry. Careful not to press too hard.

"You're right…you look more like a tramp stamp kind of guy." Again I grinned, feeling the panic ebb further away, settling my nerves a little more. Though I did still hold resentment toward him, even if it was more out of the fact that I _should_ have been angry rather than actually being angry. When his back was dried I took the towel from around his waist and wet it a bit more before stepping out from the tub. "Sit up," I told him, kneeling in between Crowley's feet.

The smirk was inevitable that spread across his lips, his head tilting to the side. "That's a good angle for you, darling." He murmured, voice purring and low. I pressed the towel harshly to one of the cuts, causing the demon to hiss in pain.

"Whoops…my hand slipped." I said in mocked innocence, starting to rub the blood away, beginning just under his neck.

"Oh, do that again. You're getting me all tingly." Crowley chuckled instead, tilting his head up. I saw his eyes close as I worked, carefully navigating around the cuts, trying to press as little as possible so as not to aggravate the wounds and have them start bleeding again. The biggest worry was the one on his side, gaping and in clear need of stitches. When finished I threw the towel into the hamper, making a note of starting laundry before Bobby got back. I folded up a smaller towel and pressed it to the cut, causing Crowley to hiss again.

"That cut needs stitches." I told him, pulling back, groaning quietly as I stood.

Crowley looked up at me, his eyebrows raised in mockery. "Stitches? It'll heal just fine." He told me with a disapproving scoff, keeping the towel in place with his hand.

"Then why come here if all of the wounds are going to heal anyways, huh?" I questioned, arms crossed and trying to look as intimidating as possible. Some of the cuts had clotted up and the minor ones had even scabbed by the time I finished. But the large one didn't seem any better than before. Simply cleaner. I could only guess it was inflicted by an angel blade or maybe Sam had gotten to Crowley with Ruby's knife. Whatever it was, it didn't look like it'd be healing anytime soon. Crowley scowled, causing me to break out into a mocking grin. "That's what I thought. Come on, back to my room so I can patch the King up." I said.

In turn the demon took the chance to wrap his arm tightly around my waist, grinning as he slumped dramatically against me. "Thank you love, I don't know what I'd do without you." He sighed, walking slower than before. Only Crowley would take the moment of someone genially trying to help him and turn it into taking advantage of invading personal space.

"Don't push it, Crowley, I'm still contemplating tying you up." I grumbled, pushing the door to my room open with my foot.

"Do you promise?" He hummed in my ear, causing the skin around my neck to break out in goose bumps from the warmth of his breath.

I bit back a string of curses and let him sit on my bed before leaving the room to get bandages and whatever else I'd need. Plus I needed to get away from him for a little bit. My skin was practically crawling, face flushed and stomach refusing to cease its tumbling. Crowley had a positively maddening effect on me. On one hand; I despised him. Especially more so for coming to me demanding help when I was still dealing with the damage of what he had done during the hunt. Never once had he stopped by to see how I was. On the other hand, he came to _me_ for help. And though I knew he'd never admit to it, it had to count for quite a bit of trust seeing as I could have very likely done what any other hunter would've done and taken advantage of the situation. Or maybe he knew the effect he had on me and knew for a fact that I would help?

Whatever the reasons were, they were battling it out inside me on top of dealing with having to see blood and push back the thoughts of the nightmare. I felt nauseas and giddy, angry and happy. _Happy_ because he had come to me. Guilty for pushing Bobby out of the house so I could take care of a demon. With another heavy sigh I grabbed a glass from the kitchen after gathering all the other supplies and headed back to my room, checking the time. A good half hour before Bobby would be back. That should be enough time for me to finish. Though I'd have to hurry in cleaning the bathroom and discarding of Crowley's tattered clothes.

When I got back to my room Crowley held the note he had left me in his free hand, looking up at me with raised eyebrows and a knowing grin. "Shut up," I drawled, plucking the paper from his fingers and dropping it back on the nightstand, dropping the supplies on the bed beside him. I wondered exactly how wide his grin would've gotten if he would've known I still had his tie. "Here, drink." I told him, pouring a generous amount of Craig into the glass.

"Gladly," he hummed, tilting his head back to take the alcohol in one large gulp, eyes closing as a content sigh left his lips. "That's the stuff." Crowley breathed as I leaned over him to inspect his back. With the holy water washed out the sores were already healing up, leaving behind faint scars and discolorations that would in all likelihood fade by morning.

I cleaned up his face a little, wiping away what blood had dried onto his skin, taking a second too long on his lip. Crowley noticed and grinned, though refrained from saying anything.

"Lay back," I instructed, pushing gently on his shoulders after taking the now empty glass from his fingers and setting it by the bottle. When he opened his mouth I cut him off before he could even get a sound out. "If it's a dirty comment or some suggestion about us having sex; zip it." But his eyes still sparked the teasing, and he still smirked, but thankfully remained quiet and laid back. I straddled his legs, again glaring at him in reminder to keep quiet, and grabbed the needle. After soaking it in alcohol and threading it I leaned over and pushed his hand away, gently peeling back the towel.

"Do be gentle with me, darling." Crowley hummed, the faintest of chuckles rippling through his chest when I let out an exasperated sigh and wiped down the wound before starting the tedious work of closing it up. By its depth the cut needed two sets, the inner being much more difficult. But in its position I had a feeling that if I did just the outside they would've ripped in an hour or so, making everything that much worse. Crowley groaned and hissed and I felt his muscles tense but he stayed surprisingly still.

"Still doing okay?" I asked, slowly finishing up with the last outer stitch, the wound closing up nicely.

"I've been through so much worse, darling." Crowley muttered, voice slightly strained. By the scars I had seen on his torso I had no doubt, but it didn't mean that this was any more pleasant. I wiped away what blood had collected and applied a few gauze pads over the now stitched cut.

"Well, that's done then," I said, moving to treat the smaller cuts, putting on bandages so they wouldn't get infected. "And so is that…I think I got it all, then." I finally sighed, my fingers and hands stained with his blood.

"Thank you, love." Crowley murmured, his smirk taking its place, hands suddenly on my thighs. I gritted my teeth and glared down at him, though didn't yet move away. "Kiss them better?" He asked in a teasing tone, fingers curling tightly around my legs as he used me to pull himself up, groaning with difficulty. But as he did I was moved uncomfortably closer to him, skin burning though all contact was done through clothing. "How about kiss _me_ better?" He offered once seated, hands now trailing up to my hips, fingers massaging the skin below my shirt. The nerve endings seemed to shoot with electricity and I almost let out an approving whine. Almost.

"_Podex perfectus es_." _You're a complete asshole, _I muttered, narrowing my eyes and tried to scoot back. But Crowley's grip only tightened keeping me in place as his smirk grew.

"_Quo usque tandem abutere affinita nostra, eh?" _my eyes widened at the way the words rolled off his tongue. I knew I could speak a bit of Latin, grabble together a few sentences and insults. But my speech was still choppy, the pronunciation awkward at times. Crowley's wasn't. It was smooth, the words coming deep from his throat, like the language was created specifically for him to speak. _How long are you going to abuse our relationship_? I simply gawked, mouth open as he leaned forward, ghosting his lips over my cheek, fingers rubbing circles into the lower of my back. "_Delicia…mellita…dorme mecum_." I actually shivered, his voice rough and gravelly in my ear. _Darling…sweetness…sleep with me_.

I gulped, swallowing down a large lump. If he would've said it in that tone in English it would've been bad enough. But with his accent, the Latin language. I was positively drawn, wanting nothing more than to comply. "Not in a thousand years, Crowley." I said, though my voice quivered slightly and held no real power in the words.

He chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth, lingering for a moment before drawing back, his hands receding from my back, back down to my thighs. "Well…it was worth a shot." I slid off him, pouring him another glass of Craig and taking a large drink from the bottle myself.

"I'm going to go clean up the bathroom before Bobby gets back." I told him quietly, leaving as soon as I could. His chuckle haunting me.

As much as I wanted to hate him at this current moment all I could muster up was a quiet whine of protest when I reached the bathroom. Crowley was positively intoxicating…addicting. Worse than heroin or any other drug. I wondered how long I could keep my distance, how many more times I could pull away before my will broke. My thoughts were cut short five minutes later when I heard the familiar rumble of a truck. As quickly as I could I shoved the remainder of Crowley's clothing into the bottom of the hamper beneath everything else, wiped away what blood remained on the edge of the tub and quickly scrubbed my hands clean. Rushing back to my room I found Crowley laying fully on my bed, glass of Craig in his hand, his shoes off, chest bare and lower half of him covered in _my_ blankets.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hissed. The demon looked like he wasn't about to go anywhere anytime soon.

"Getting comfortable." Crowley replied matter of factley, his grin smug and wide.

I was about to shout for him to get out when the front door opened. My heart sank further. "If you so much as clear your throat I'll rip your heart out!" I warned before shutting my door, hurrying downstairs as I rolled down my jeans and took deep and calming breaths.

But I was still flustered. My stomach was twisting violently and on top of knowing there was a _demon_ currently in my bed I was _still_ fighting back the panic of seeing so much blood. For not the first time I so dearly regretted playing chess with Crowley.

* * *

Sorry for the wait guys! No actual excuse, I've been distracted, that's all :3 But...ta-daaaa! Things are all better now xD sort of...you know, apart from the part where Crowley is still an insufferable peen.

-Sylleth


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